Life Will Out
by indigowaterbears
Summary: While trying to start a new life Amelia's past catches up to her. Out of fear she pushes Owen away, ending their new and precarious relationship and unexpectedly finds comfort in Meredith's presence and support. A look into what could possibly happen should Amelia's past come to the surface and how that'll affect all those around her.
1. One

_Here we go again._

* * *

Amelia stared at her phone. She was being paged to the ER. She groaned, this new thing where Derek took all the surgeries, all the aneurysms and bleeds and routine things she had on her plate, left her with traumas and consults. At first, it seemed like the perfect plan, but maybe Derek was right – not that she would ever tell him that. At times, their arrangement was worth her time, she got to do surgery on interesting and bloody and exciting traumas, but most of the time it was ghost tumours and bumps on the head. Wondering which one of the two it was going to be she just walked through the pit looking for Kepner, the page was a generic 911 and she didn't see any emergencies that required help, any help, let alone neuro. It was rather slow, but in a hospital ER slow was good. In the last few days she had been hesitant to walk down to there, after all it was Owen's territory and while in the rest of the building he was easier to avoid, it was really rare and difficult to go down there and not bump into him. Taking a good look around she didn't see him and relaxed, they were not broken up, she had no idea if they had ever been together in the first place, however he kept giving her this look that varied between kicked puppy and wanting to understand the deepest, most difficult machinations of her brain. One she could deal with, the other she'd rather avoid in any case. She had wanted it, wanted it so bad to work and to be something real, it was one of the reasons she had moved here, to start fresh and maybe find someone who didn't like her just because she was a lost cause. Owen made her feel accepted and loved without the need to prove herself, just like with Addison, only different. Then she saw Meredith wave her over to a bed.

"What do we have?"

Meredith must have noticed the spaced out look in her eyes, but said nothing. Amelia reminded her of herself so much sometimes it was annoying. Also, she did not know her well and Derek's behaviour towards his sister was confusing at best, as he went from ignoring her because she was and addict to offering her his job, a room in his house and trusting her with their kids after she came out of rehab, _again._ "Car crash, we just need you to call it, though. Pupils are fixed."

Amelia sighed. This was just getting better and better. Quickly examining the patient she gripped her little flashlight until her knuckles were white. This kid couldn't have been more than eighteen. "Time of death ten-forty three."

A nurse was writing on the chart and she turned distractedly to sign it. "There was a massive pile up, but luckily many were not even injured. He's the first casualty, hopefully the last. Poor kid."

She looked up at Bailey, blinking. Amelia felt that heaviness in her chest, she knew it so well it was almost like hunger to her. It wasn't cravings, but pain, the sort of pain that sometimes kept her up at night. The pain that crept up whenever she felt Owen's eyes on her back and the pain she felt when she heard from her room his brother and his family laughing. She was happy, happy for him and in comparison to the person she had been a couple of years ago, she was just plain happy. It wasn't sadness, just pain. She realised it was probably amplified tenfold right now because she could hear a woman screaming in one of the trauma rooms, giving birth. That was a kind of pain, emotional pain, she wasn't ready to deal with today. Her day started so well with charts of her twelve hour surgery from yesterday and now it was unravelling so fast she could barely keep track of everything happening.

"Amelia." Meredith said a bit too forcefully. Amelia turned to look at her, there really was no need to be so harsh. Her eyes though, were soft and worried. "I've been calling you for a while."

Shaking her head, she dismissed her worry. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Are you okay?"

"Sure." She said all too quickly. "I'm fine, a little tired." Trying to be as convincing as possible she offered a smile and slowly walked away, letting them take care of everything. She needed to sit alone for a while, where nobody would try to talk to her and ask her if she –

"Are you okay?"

Amelia wanted to scream. Then her brain connected all the information and she realised it was Owen, standing to her left. Her efforts to avoid him had been pushed aside to accommodate her escape plan from everyone else, so she had missed him standing right in her path. "Yup. Fine, I'm great."

He tilted his head to the side and frowned, he couldn't say he knew her well, but she would be the first to admit here in Seattle he was right up there with her brother as the ones who knew her best, which was sad considering how little they really knew. Her voice sounded anything but fine and in his experience a woman saying she was fine was definitely not, ever.

"Owen, I'm okay. It's never easy to lose someone." She hoped she could cover up the true nature of her feelings, if anything this kid had triggered a lot of the feelings she had going around right now. "It happens, it's the job."

The look he gave her told her that he wasn't buying any of that, but wouldn't press, things between them were left unsaid and unfinished and he had no idea how far he was allowed to go with her. He knew the look in her eyes, the one that told him she was covering up, trying to convince him and probably herself that everything was okay, whishing that if she said it enough, she might actually start to believe it. "I know we're not… I just want you to know that I'm here, for whatever you need. It doesn't have to be anything, but I care and I understand, I try to."

She smiled, she tried at least. It had taken her a lifetime to become who she was today and that had been hard enough, she really could not put up with anymore pain and disappointment. As if on cue she saw Arizona calling for her from one of the trauma rooms. "Sorry, I gotta go."

Walking into the room she realised it was the patient from before. Still in labour, she grimaced. She was in a bad mood today, not an easily irritated and short fuse kind of bad, but the kind of bad that made her consider the comfort of relapsing, of letting go. She couldn't help but think that everything had been going relatively well here in Seattle, people didn't know her or her past, they had only heard about the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, but they didn't understand it, not really. This had allowed her to push it aside, sweep it under the rug, out of sight out of mind. She had cut back on meetings and, while she wasn't drinking or doing drugs or anything remotely similar, she was being careless. The last time she had let go of her recovery had been when she moved to LA, back then she had truly believed she had everything under control and then before she knew it she was going down that same, dauntingly familiar downward spiral and many bad things happened. Things that left scars so deep it was getting hard to keep them all covered up. Ultimately, she had let herself forget and find comfort in Owen's presence and his unwavering support, though it all came back to her soon enough how painful it was to have loved and lost and, at this point, it was maybe better to not have loved at all. She told herself to pain was not worth it, the pain that would come from hurting Owen then was unspeakable.

Amelia looked around, quickly assessing the situation. The baby was not born yet and the mother looked fine, scrapes and bruises, but nothing that required a neurosurgeon. "What do you need?"

Arizona was prepping for what she imagined would be an emergency C-section, right there, right now. "I saw something on the ultrasound, but I can't quite make it out with the baby stuck this way."

"Something's wrong with the baby?" asked the patient panicking.

Arizona assured her that they would do anything they could and that it could be nothing, just a problem with imaging. However the woman insisted, she had apparently no insurance and had been going to a free clinic every two weeks, sometimes three. Amelia just stood there, not sure what he was supposed to do before she could look at the baby. Trying to make herself useful she draped the patient and took a look at the ultrasound images, which she had to agree showed an abnormality, but were in no way conclusive, given the position of the fetus. She observed silently as Arizona slowly and carefully took the baby out, Karev had come down too and was assisting instead of her. The moment she saw the newborn in Arizona's arms time stopped. Her vision blurred at the edges and she felt like she was underwater, the sounds were distant and distorted and her heart beat spiked. Everything felt like it was in slow motion around her and she wasn't quite able to focus on one thing or the other, while the two doctors worked. Recognising her name she turned to Arizona, who while looking at her nodded in Alex's direction. The look in her eyes was sad and, Amelia couldn't be sure, but the glint she saw in the reflection looked like tears. Numbly, Amelia made her way over to Alex, who was shaking his head going on and on about how rare it was to see something like this, the infant was very still and he wasn't crying, which worried her because Alex didn't seem to be working on freeing up airways or resuscitate. When she walked up to the little plastic crib she felt bile coming up her throat.

"_Wrap his head right away, I don't want to see it."_

The baby, this baby girl didn't have a brain. She looked up at Alex who shrugged his shoulders and gave her a pointed look, almost asking what he should be doing. Momentarily she forgot she was here as a neuro consult and not as someone who knew way too much about anencephalic babies. "Why am I here?"

Alex looked pointedly at her and arched his eyebrows, surprised at her answer.

"_Just take him away, before I can see him, I don't want to hear him cry – just before he cries."_

"I'm a neuro surgeon and there is no brain here for me to look at, I shouldn't be here." She needed to go away. The baby looked nothing like her baby, her baby's head was smaller and to her trained eye it was clear as day there was something missing, but it overall looked as normal as possible. This baby didn't have skin on top of her head, there was a thin membrane, it was red and soft and not at all baby like. She needed to go away before this woman would find out her baby, the baby she thought was perfect, was going to die and there was nothing all the doctors in the world could do to save her. Amelia knew that feeling all too well and she really didn't want to be here for that. "I don't need to be here. I can't-"

"_Just take him away."_

She stumbled backwards, trying to walk as fast as she could before the tears welling up in her eyes would start falling, making it blatantly obvious for everybody just how not fine she was. On her way out she got rid of the yellow paper coat and gloves, bumping into the drugs cabinet and knocking over a tray full of instruments that made all sorts of tinkling noises as they mixed up with each other. Alex and Arizona stared confused and at loss. No one knew Amelia Shepherd enough to know whether they should be worried about her or mad that she was running out on a difficult case. Regardless her exit had been noisy enough that everyone in the ER was looking at her by the time she had freed herself of all disposable gear, ready to run as far away as she could.

Meredith looked in and saw the baby in Alex's arms, then looking at Arizona asking wordlessly what was going on, she just saw her shrug her shoulders just as confused as she was. She stood from her seat behind the desk and followed Amelia's retreating form down the hallway and into the bathroom. Right when she was about to go in she felt someone behind her and turned around, finding Owen. They shared a look. She knew he and Amelia had been a thing and she knew she had later broken it off, for the better. He was probably the last person Amelia wanted to see right now anyway. "I got this."

She went inside, but there was nobody there. Seconds later she heard a toilet flush and Amelia came out looking pale as a ghost, apart from the red rimmed eyes. Amelia palmed the wall, sliding slowly against the white, cold tiles and sat on the floor, knees up to her chest and head buried in her hands. Her white lab coat was thrown a couple feet away from her. Taken aback Meredith stood still, maybe she should have let Owen come in after all. Tentatively, she sat down beside her, cross legged and leaning against the tiles.

"I'm fine." Her voice was creaky and weak making all the more obvious that she was anything but fine. Meredith didn't say anything, wanting to be there for her, but not knowing what to say or what to do, hell, she didn't even know what happened, let alone how to fix it. She just sat there, hoping that the comfort of having someone there would be enough, however when she heard Amelia's breathing change, coming out in shaky almost silent sobs, her mommy instinct kicked in and she turned to her sister in law. Putting a hand on her shoulder she now worried genuinely and not out of some moral imperative she felt because she was her husband's sister and was currently living in her house. "It's fine, I'm fine." Amelia cleared her throat making a real effort to pull herself together. "You don't have to be here, I'm fine."

Meredith knew how to translate that perfectly, almost too perfectly, and therefore didn't move and inch from her position on the floor. "Is this about the kid?" with that she got Amelia's attention, who turned to look up at her with big, wet blue eyes. Meredith realised they looked exactly like Bailey's eyes. "There was nothing we could have done to save him-"

"It's not – I know we did." She took in a sharp, but still shaky breath and turned back to stare at the floor. "You really don't need to sit here on the floor with me."

Meredith smiled. If only Amelia knew. "Believe it or not this is not the first time I'm sitting on a bathroom floor with someone. I even laid on the bathroom floor once," she tried to lighten the mood. "But then again it was my bathroom, so I didn't think twice about putting my hair on the floor." She smiled thinking back at the memory, it wasn't a particularly happy one, but Cristina was there and Izzie was there and George was there, Doc was still alive and even though Derek was still with Addison, she now thought of that time fondly. Her trip down memory lane, however, was interrupted when she saw Amelia literally shaking beside her. "Amelia?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." She kept repeating like a mantra and every time she said it, she sobbed harder and harder until she was gasping, unable to breath. Meredith started rubbing her back, whishing she would stop crying, she didn't do crying, couldn't handle it, she had cried enough since she started working here, she was done and didn't want to have to deal with it anymore.

When Amelia started breathing again at normal intervals she sighed, she had absolutely no idea what to do, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. "You couldn't have done anything about the baby either, you know, right?"

"I know that!" she said harshly, turning to glare at Meredith, who was surprised at her reaction and instinctively wanted to defend herself, but then she noticed Amelia's eyes were sad and sorrowful and she felt sorry instead, whatever this was about it was obvious she was in pain. Meredith had a very good idea what that was like, regardless of the reason she was feeling this way, she still had the tendency to bring stray home. Amelia was already living in her house, but only because she was Derek's sister, but now Meredith felt a kinship with her, saw the sad and lonely and broken that Amelia was usually so good at keeping hidden, all covered up, something she was never really good at. "I'm sorry, I know you're being nice and you're trying to help-"

She just put her arm around her and pulled Amelia to her and, just for a moment, she reminded her of Lexie. Amelia leaned her head on Meredith's shoulder and taking deep, long breaths she slowly started to calm down.


	2. Two

_I was somehow convinced I had posted this yesterday. I was blown away at the respose this story got and seriously hope it lives up to everyone's expectations; the part in italics it's a transcript from a Private Practice scene, just because someone might not know about that and this is the Grey's section of the site, so it's not mine, just some insight to better understand the rest. Enjoy_

* * *

_Amelia grabbed Jake's wrist before he could move to leave her room. "No drugs. No epidural, no pain meds, no sedatives. I mean it."_

_"Okay." He nodded patiently._

_"And I want you to move me off the OB floor the minute I'm done delivering, I don't want to be on this floor." _

_"Okay."_

_"And wrap his head right away, I don't want to see it."_

_He could feel the composure leave her with every passing second she sat in the hospital bed. "Okay."_

_"Just take him away, before I can see him, I don't want to hear him cry – just before he cries."_

_Jake smiled sadly, while he didn't know her all that well, he was proud of her, proud of how strong she turned out to be. He didn't want to give her any more bad news today. "Amelia-"_

_"Right." She felt tears in her eyes, she is a doctor, she should know better and still somehow for the whole duration of this pregnancy, all the years she spent buried in books, meant nothing to her. "Babies without a frontal lobe can't cry. I saw one once, when I was an intern. They make this kind of squeaking noise, brainless babies squeak, it's the only way you can describe the noise they make. You'd think that I would be awful, but actually it's kind of – life will out, you know."_

_Jake saw raw pain in her eyes. Unfortunately, in the brief time he had known her he had seen her in such pain, most people would never recover, but she had. Slowly and with help, she made it all the time. To him she was just a little girl, she looked so small and she reminded him for some reason of his daughter. They were nothing alike. Maybe, though, it was the way she had leaned on him these past few months, the way he saw her try and fail and then try again. Maybe it was because he saw Addison helplessly trying to help her and he knew exactly what that felt like, he remembered feeling like that with his wife, only Amelia looked so small and fragile right now. "I know."_

_"Anyway, take him away before he squeaks." She said resolutely, pulling the covers up._

Meredith remembered when Derek's sister Lizzie had come to Seattle, at first she had found it hard to deal with her, being so different from her and everything she was used to, all her experience with sisters was Lexie and Lexie was nothing like Amelia, but nothing like Lizzie either. She figured Amelia was at least used to the pushy, obtrusive way of her sister, but she had no idea if she could pull it off. Whenever there was a problem with her or Cristina they would lay in bed together, drink or dance, no words were needed. So, Meredith improvised. "Do you maybe want to go sit somewhere else?"

Amelia shook her head against her shoulder. "I don't think I can leave the bathroom just yet."

Meredith nodded, understanding completely. "I know a lot of places no one knows around here, if you need to not be around people for a little while."

"Thanks, but everything is kind of spinning and the tiles feel so good right now." Amelia sat up straighter, wiping the tears from her face, she must look like death warmed over just about now.

Meredith smiled, but fortunately stopped herself before making some comment about being hungover, Amelia was not the right person to joke about that with, if she started it then it was all good, but she had no idea what was okay and what was a big no-no. There was another time she had felt like that. In the hope of bonding, remembering what Lizzie had said, she turned to Amelia. "I know the feeling. When I was pregnant the first time I felt exactly like that. I was sick every morning and lunch and dinner, all the time, really."

"Yeah, well – wait, the first time?"

Meredith nodded, sighing. "It was a long time ago, when the shooting happened." Amelia turned to face her, pressing her temple against the cool tiles, she was still a little bit queasy, but mostly light headed and she, for one, had no intention of leaving her hiding place, not when it felt so good and cold and comfy. She couldn't see Meredith's eyes, but she could see them pointed right down at her lap. The smile on her face was slowly fading away and her jaw looked tense. She reached and put a hand on her knee. "I miscarried."

"I'm really sorry." Amelia said. There had to have been an edge to her voice, one she wasn't conscious of having, but it must have been obvious because Meredith put her hand on hers and squeezed. It was only then that Amelia realized she was clutching her stomach. Realising it only took a handful of neurons to put it all together she sighed. "I lost my baby too."

"That sucks, I'm so sorry."

Amelia nodded. "Promise you won't tell Derek?"

Meredith frowned. "Okay. Just so you know I waited weeks before I told him and he was very understanding and supportive, you could tell him, if you want."

"I didn't have a miscarriage." Amelia mumbled. "I got pregnant while I was using and didn't realise I was until I was about twenty weeks." She nodded numbly. She focused on what she had worked on with Sheldon, the positive, the good. It was the only way not to be swallowed by all the pain and sadness. "I waited a while to get an ultrasound – I was working with two certified OBs and I just didn't do it. I had to get used to the idea that I was going to have a baby first, not even a year out of rehab and I was going to have to do it alone because my baby's father was dead." She felt her eyes get swollen and teary and she just wished she could stop crying, but at this point she didn't even care anymore. "Then Addie did the ultrasound and found I was carrying an anencephalic baby, so I waited and when he was born I donated his organs."

"I can't even imagine how that must feel like."

Amelia pulled her knees tighter against her. "I'm glad you don't."

Meredith finally put into context the last few weeks of her life, Amelia being confused about Owen had been a good thing, considering her history the wait and see approach was the very best Amelia could do at the time. Particularly, what she had told her afterwards made a lot more sense. She realised Amelia must feel all the pressure of the world on her shoulders, between filling Derek's shoes at work and building a completely new life, she barely had any space to breathe let alone set everyone's worries and concerns to rest. "Why didn't you terminate?"

Amelia shrugged, hoping the tears would stop. At least, she thought, she felt good enough to stand, which was kind of a big accomplishment compared to a few minutes ago. "It was too late and… and he kicked. I could feel him kicking inside of me, which is the most amazing thing I've ever felt."

Meredith nodded. She knew exactly what she meant. "It was a boy?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not judging," she started and Amelia saw that she was right, Meredith had a way of accepting others' mistakes without judging that she really admired, even her, with her truck load of baggage, couldn't stop herself some times. "But why didn't you tell anyone? I know Derek doesn't know, which means your mom doesn't know either. You do know he would have been there for you, he can be a bit of a jerk, but only because he cares a lot."

Amelia gave a small smile. "I was always the family disappointment. Relapsing and going to rehab again was a low for me and Ryan dying took a toll. I had a hard time putting myself back together – I don't think I'm still quite done with that. Addison called Derek and mom when I was admitted. I was going to tell them about the baby, but then when I found out he wasn't going to live I just… didn't. I lost my son, but my mom lost a grandchild and Derek lost a nephew. I didn't want to be the cause of more pain to them."

"If there is one thing I've learned the past few years is that family is somewhere you can go and there is always someone waiting with open arms." Meredith said, waiting for any kind of response, her crappy family experience had made her realise over the years that everyone should have that, a safe heaven to hide from the world and find love and understanding. "Are you feeling any better?"

Amelia nodded and looked down, everyone would now stare at her like the crazy, former drug addict surgeon that hides in bathrooms. "I think so. I should probably apologise-"

"Don't' worry about that, we are more than used to drama here, there's no need. Come on," she stood taking Amelia's hand and pulling her up. As soon as she was upright she closed her eyes and leaned on the wall. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Amelia shook her head and slowly sat back down. Meredith crouched down next to her, shock was normal, but there had to be something else going on with her. "You are definitely not okay."

"Must be the flu then," she offered, it was clear she was the first not to believe it. "Zola had it last week, didn't she?"

Meredith nodded, since Derek was away it was the two of them left to deal with the sick child and Meredith knew first hand how disgusting it could get. Also they were working in a hospital, where germs were everywhere. She was about to sit back down when her pager beeped, luckily it was just a consult in the ER, but when her eyes landed on Amelia she found she didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone in here. "Do you want me to call someone? Owen?"

"No and definitely not Owen."

"Amelia you can't sit on the bathroom floor all day." Meredith argued, feeling like she was talking to Zola and not her grown sister in law. "You should go home if you're feeling this bad."

Amelia shook her head vehemently, regretting it immediately when the room started spinning again and she buried her head back down, knowing it wasn't going to stop just because her head was perfectly still, but here's hoping. "I'm fine, it just happened all so fast, I'm going to be fine in ten minutes."

Meredith looked at her, wanting to strangle her for being so stubborn and childish. The more she lived with Amelia, the more she realised her and Derek resembled each other in more than just appearance and more than either would ever care to admit. "Okay, now you stand, slowly, and I'll take you to the attendings' lounge and you can lay down there."

Reluctantly Amelia gave in and, almost in slow motion, she let Meredith pull her up, still leaning on the bathroom wall she took a few seconds to let her head adjust. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually like… this. I don't know why I can't keep myself together today."

"Whatever happened with Owen anyway?" she asked to distract her, as Amelia looked more steady by the second and started following her out of the bathroom. She had a feeling that this probably wasn't the best small talk topic at the moment, but her brain hadn't stopped her fast enough. After that talk they had in the kitchen a few days ago Meredith thought Amelia was defending her and Owen's relationship or whatever it was. Later, she had seen the awkwardness between the two, the tension and sadness they both displayed whenever they had to be together in a room. It was painfully obvious they were making an effort to look and act as normal as possible, but a lot of other people had noticed and put two and two together coming to all kinds of conclusion, generating rumours going around the hospital, which wasn't making it any easier on Owen or Amelia.

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "I thought out of everyone you'd be glad we're not… well, a _we_ anymore."

Meredith realised then her conversation with Amelia had not had the desired result. She had wanted to make sure she was not treating Owen like a warm body, from what Derek had told her it was not unusual for her and she hadn't made the effort to get to know Amelia enough to see with her own eyes that she had changed. From what she had witnessed today she could tell she had been very, very wrong. "I never meant for you to break up because of me."

"It wasn't you. It was all me." She grinned, but her eyes were so sad. "You were right, though, to look out for him, thanks for that."

Meredith sighed, sometimes she forgot it was only with Cristina she could speak without having to spell everything out. She had been worried for Owen because of the person she thought Amelia was, but as she got to know her better, especially after their little talk on the floor, she realised they might just be perfect for one another. Meredith told herself she had been looking out for Amelia too, as strong as she claimed she was, she was not ready for a man like Owen, a man who came very close to destroying someone as strong as Cristina Yang. "You looked happy."

"It doesn't matter, I know me and I screw things up. I couldn't do it to Owen. He shouldn't have to deal with crazy day in and day out, he deserves better and I'm not ready for the kind of commitment he wants. Hell, I came here running from an engagement, I don't even know why I thought I was ready for another relationship." Amelia sighed, Meredith could feel the sadness and wanted to smack her upside the head for being so full of crap. She was scared, terrified of whatever was between her and Owen and she was blaming her past and what she had said to get out of that. From the look she had seen on Owen's face the last few days she could tell he was wondering just what was going on in Amelia's head, something she now knew was not as obvious as it seemed. "It's better like this."

Meredith sat her down on the beige sofa in the lounge. "I think that's a load of crap, but you keep telling yourself that."

Amelia sat down, leaning gently all the way against the back of the sofa, it was the comfiest one out of all of the ones in the room, fact that was no secret from the indentation in the centre. How she wished she could just stand without feeling the world around her spin so fast she couldn't keep her eyes open and just go to work and busy herself with something, preferably something with blood and involving stabbing someone's skin with a needle. Meredith was being so confusing, first she was breathing down her neck about her and Owen and now she was asking why they broke up. "You're being confusing, I'm confused. Didn't you have to go anyway, I know you were paged."

"Yeah, well, you needed a babysitter." Meredith eyed her like she would one of her kids. "And for the record, I never wanted the two of you to break up."

"Thanks." She leaned back her head shutting her eyes. "But as I said, it's better this way, for everyone."

Meredith made sure she was all set before finally leaving. Amelia was growing on her, when she had first come and Derek had offered to keep her with them indefinitely she had been worried, she was an addict and she just quit her job and ended her engagement to come to Seattle. She proved her wrong, she was amazing with the kids and certainly lived up to the title of Doctor Shepherd – either one, impossible tumours and all – and she was a lot like her, which was, admittedly, a bother most of the time, but comforting some others. Stepping out of the room, switching the light off and making a mental note to check back on her later, Meredith sighed. She remembered Derek being sick and this looked too close for comfort, she couldn't deal with two children and a sick Shepherd all on her own. Checking her phone, asking if the consult was still needed as she had not responded, she stood out of the door.

"How is she?"

Meredith's head whipped around so fast. Owen was standing there, the usual sad look in his eyes and for the first time she felt guilty. From what she understood Amelia had broken things off with him after they had talked and therefore Owen's sad eyes were more than partially her fault. She knew the real cause of their break up was Amelia being scared and running, but she couldn't help but think that if she had stayed out of their business this wouldn't have happened, maybe not yet, maybe not at all. "She is fine."

Owen looked at her pointedly and tilted his head slightly.

"She is going to be fine. Just needs some time and space. And crackers." Meredith added cryptically, she could see from his face that he knew what Amelia had confessed to her in the bathroom or part of it at least. She was sure because he wasn't just standing there, she could see him itching to push past her and get inside, which – in her opinion – Amelia badly needed at the moment, but was too scared and proud to let herself have that.

He frowned. "Crackers?"

Realising she might have said too much she tried to set things straight. "Zola had the flu last week, Amelia seems to have the same thing."

"Meredith." His tone made Meredith want to push him in there herself. The tone of his voice was begging her to talk to him, not because he had any claim over Amelia, not personally nor as chief of surgery, but because he _needed_ to know.

"Let her rest." She said softly. She had to fix this, she would need the help of someone – maybe Callie – but Meredith was now resolute to fixing Owen and Amelia.

Owen, though, wasn't backing down, not like that. "Please. I know it's not the flu." He started hoping to get Meredith to understand that he was well aware Amelia's reaction had been triggered by that baby and in case Meredith knew nothing he would just write it up to knowing her so well. "She needs someone."

"Be that as it may," Meredith was walking back to the ER with Owen following her around. "I think she needs some space right now and she explicitly told me not to let anyone in, you included." When she saw there was only one patient requiring medical help and Bailey was there she slowed down, looking around to make sure, but she was almost positive her consult was not needed anymore. "Look, I understand it may be hard for you to just let her be, I think I understand, at least. I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but she can't deal with those feelings today."

He hung his head and eventually nodded resigned. As much as Meredith was right, he was barely resisting the urge to go in there. He missed her so much and he couldn't talk to anyone about that because nobody knew. He had let himself go with her, had fallen so hard and she just backed out, with no reason – well, she must have had a reason, not the one she fed him, but not one she had shared with him either. When she had told him they were a mistake he had firmly believed there was something else, that he would be able to sort that out without damaging the relationship, but they never had that talk again. So, now it was looks across a room or the occasional hand brush in the hallways, but everything else was so strictly professional it made him sick.

* * *

_p.s. just so you know I only post when I have three or more chapters all written and ready, that way I never run out or get writer's block from the pressure of posting, so relax there's already loads of this ready to go._


	3. Three

Amelia opted to go home early or rather not to stay past her shift to finish charts and check on patients. She had wanted to go home a lot earlier, but that would have meant talking to Owen and she was definitely not in the mood for that. Despite feeling calmer and more in control of her emotions, the dizziness had remained throughout her day and, while at first she had been convinced seeing that baby had brought back a lot of memories and dug up a lot of feelings, when the physical sickness didn't go away she found all she wanted was to go home and curl up in bed. The shock had mostly been in the realisation that those wounds were still so fresh, she was disappointed in finding that she was still not over it, not that she would even entirely be, but in a way she was convinced she had accepted the loss of her baby. Telling Meredith about him had seemed like the best idea at the time, but now she didn't know how to face her when she would come back home tonight. She felt like a weight of massive proportions had been lifted off her chest and the look of understanding, rather than pity, had given her the courage to completely open up, but, she noted, even though she had come here to start fresh, all the relationships she was building now were based on her past. Amelia went into her room, enjoying the quiet in this giant house, something that was kind of an unique experience, she had grown up in a big house with almost no one around, all her sisters had moved out by the time she began to care and Derek was about to. The noise and messiness were warm and homey and safe, but nothing quite beat the silence, the wind moving the leaves around and the occasional animal wailing somewhere.

Her room, though, felt cold. Lonely kind of cold and Amelia realised the feelings today had brought to the surface didn't do well with cold and lonely. As she looked around she felt a bit spacey and disoriented and the doctor in her told her she better sit down and get something to eat or she would find herself back in the hospital and out of her pretty, navy scrubs and into an itchy paper gown. Thinking way too quickly she threw on a thick fleece sweater that she may have swiped from Owen a few weeks back and headed outside, sitting on the bench, relishing in the feel of the wind blowing in her face, which was doing wonders for her nausea. It wasn't even that cold. It made her feel more alive without the need of altering her brain chemistry, it was refreshing and invigorating, she wrapped the sweater tighter around her and buried her nose in the material to protect at least half of her face from the wind. Amelia felt tears in her eyes. The sweater smelled like Owen, like his pillow and his sheets. If she closed her eyes she could almost feel him sitting beside her. The fact that she was sitting outside on a windy night, alone and sick because she couldn't deal with her past was exactly the reason she had called everything off. That and the fact that workplace relationships never worked out, apart from her brother's and all the other doctors at the hospital that were somehow making it work. She had made herself believe that if she moved far enough she could pretend that she was just the neurosurgeon next door, she would work and not worry about relapsing or visiting graves at the cemetery. Instead, the perfect plan she had imagined was turning into a game of Jenga, crumbling down piece by piece. It would take very steady hands to take the pieces away without destroying everything in the process, she knew someone with very steady hands. Well, all surgeon had very steady hands, but one in particular had proven unnaturally talented at slowly taking down her barriers without letting it all fall to the ground in one go.

Amelia sat back and closed her eyes, relaxing to the nature sounds around her, hoping with all her might none of the creatures wandering around would decide to pay her a visit. She wouldn't think about today or that baby or Owen, for that matter. A new wave of nausea came over her and, eyes still closed, she focused on her breathing, hoping it would be enough to distract her from the rest of her thoughts too. However, her focus was so intense that she didn't realise she had fallen asleep, not until she felt someone sit next to her and jumped, waking up all of a sudden.

"Amy, what are you doing out here?" Derek wasn't supposed to be home till tomorrow night. She just looked at him, still regaining her cognitive functions from waking up so abruptly. When the back of his hand touched her cheek, though, she frowned. His eyes had turned from scolding to soft and worried, and that was not a look that suited her brother unless there was something going on. "You're freezing cold, let's get inside."

Before she could offer any protest he had her standing and, with an arm around her shoulders, was guiding her inside. He walked with her to the sofa and sat her down, disappearing somewhere. Amelia wanted to go into her room and come out tomorrow morning to go to work. Derek was the last person she wanted to see, his presence was comforting in this enormous house, but she knew he would big brother her and she was having none of that today. When he reappeared in the living room he was wearing sweats instead of the fancy suit he had on before. Sitting down next to her he just sighed, putting a hand on her knee. "Derek what's going on with you?"

"Amy," But he didn't continue. He just sat there with a look on her face that would have made her rage in any other condition, right now she wasn't allowed to stand or even turn her head too fast or she'd hurl. "Amy I'm worried about you."

She frowned, deeply. "Meredith put you up to this?"

"No, why?"

Her eyes widened. Obviously everything that happened between the two of them had stayed between the two of them. "Forget it. You don't need to be worried about me. I'm fine."

"You're pulling away and you look awful." Derek didn't dare look up at her, but she could sense the fear and worry emanating from him. It sounded a lot like… not a compliment or a pat on the back or just a fact. It sounded like she was being accused of something and wasn't even sure what that was.

"Thank you so much for the kind words." She said sarcastically, but even then she could hear her voice, raspier than usual.

Finally he looked at her, directly into her eyes. "I was happy for you when you told me about Owen. I try not to worry all the time because you're not sixteen anymore, so I didn't even think about it. When I came back tonight I saw the house was empty and stopped by the trailer on my way up, Owen was there and had no idea where you were." He rubbed her knee and tried to hold eye contact, hoping to be able to read her reaction, but she obviously wasn't having any of that, whether it was on purpose or not. "So I worried, I thought you were seeing each other or… something. The way he said it Amy… then I come here and I find you sleeping out in the cold looking pale and flushed – I don't know what to think."

Oh, that made sense. In the mess today had become her addiction had taken a back seat to all the drama and sickness. She knew for years he had tried to protect her and himself by avoiding her, by making sure the memories would have no way of coming up. That way he wouldn't have to remember constantly that time he did CPR on her, while she was technically dead. They wouldn't have to see the look in the other's eyes, seeing the reflection of their dad being shot always lurking in the background. "Derek I'm sober."

The tone of her voice broke his heart. "I'm sorry Amy, I didn't even want to ask, I know you've changed, I believe that. I love you and I don't want you to go through that again, not if I can avoid it."

"I appreciate it. I'm okay, though." She leaned against his shoulder. It was nice to have him home. Ever since Addison had got married she had lost that someone always checking up on her, the surrogate parent that wasn't really her parent. Growing up she had cast, despite her better judgement, Derek and Addison as her point of reference, wanting her mom still to be the idealised version she had of her as a child. "I can understand it's hard for you, but I can't fall down like that again and I know that and I'm careful, all the time. I know you talked to Addie, a lot, when I relapsed. I promise I'm doing all that I can to make sure I don't have to get through it again and drag all innocent bystanders down with me."

Derek smiled and squeezed her to him for a moment, much to her discomfort. "I'm proud of you and I'm happy you're here with me."

"I didn't know where else to go." she whispered and he knew not to take it as an insult or in the sense that he and Meredith had been a last resort. He knew what she meant perfectly, she couldn't go home to their mother and absolutely not even close to any of their sisters, so leaving Addison meant she only had him left to go to. The fact alone that in a time of crisis she came to Seattle instead of hiding somewhere else had meant the world to him and had made Addison feel a lot better. He was happy Amelia had been able to keep her relationship with Addie all this time, even after the divorce, she had always liked his ex-wife better than all of her actual sisters - not that he could really blame her.

Just when she had almost forgot about it a new wave of nausea washed over her and she hastily pulled away from Derek. "Amy?"

Breathing through it was helping, but this was ridiculous, she had been fine that morning. Completely fine, she knew the shock and the reminiscing had probably caused her to be sick most of the afternoon, but now it just didn't make sense. With slow jerking moves she got rid of the unbelievably warm sweater, tossing it somewhere. "I think I have Zola's flu for real." When she felt good enough she sat back and put a hand over her eyes, blocking out the light.

"Then you should be in bed, not sitting outside." He sounded so much like their mother she wanted to tape his mouth shut.

"I'm going now. Are you staying here?"

He was about to tease her, but from the look on her face and her body language Derek knew she was being serious. And exhibiting a sign of weakness, something she never really did, even when it was written all over her face she'd still try to cover it up. His eyes softened and he stood, intent on big brothering her for the night and making sure she was tucked in bed and had crackers and ibuprofen and all the blankets she wanted. He walked into her room after a few minutes, sitting on the bed beside her. "Do you need anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"We both know you are not. I'll check on you in the morning and if you're still not feeling well you will stay home tomorrow."

Amelia just looked at him pointedly. "Not a chance."

"We'll see about that." He smiled and tucked the covers tighter around her body, earning a slap on one of his hand. He chuckled and stood, leaving her in the hope she would finally decide to get some rest.

The sick feeling that had made his stomach turn in all kinds of ways when he'd found her outside sleeping was slowly fading away, but it would not entirely leave for the rest of the night for sure. Derek had given up decades ago to try and understand his sister and more recently he had realised that more often than not all the ways he tried to help her, thinking it was right thing to do, would not have the desired effect and maybe even call for disastrous and completely avoidable consequences. When she had first come to visit he had been happy and at the time finding someone to cover his service while he travelled back and forth was convenient, now though, he found he liked having her here with him. Made him feel better and didn't have to actively stop thinking about her when she wasn't around and not answering his calls. Derek walked back into the living room sitting down on the sofa, he grabbed the sweater Amelia ad thrown away before. Fingering the material he realised it wasn't hers, it was way too big, but it wasn't his either. He recognised it, though, Derek stared at the thing trying with all his might to figure out why it looked strangely familiar.

Of course. It was Owen's. He gave a puzzled look in the direction of Amelia's room, she had openly told him she was falling in love with him, something that had worried him and made him feel like a proud big brother. Derek knew Owen Hunt well enough, he was by no means perfect, but he might just be a good fit for his baby sister. Tonight, though, when he had stopped by the trailer on his way home to check on her and found Owen was not just alone, but seemed to have no idea where she was, even worse the sad look in his eyes at her mention, had told him clearly he was in no position to know where she was. Maybe he had been so happy before he left he had not seen things how they really were. He had obviously been surprised to learn that Amelia and Owen were dating – if that's what they were doing – but in that hospital, over the years, he had learned he should never be surprised by those things.

His inner monologue, though, was interrupted by Meredith opening the door and a little girl throwing herself into his arms, he hugged his daughter to him. "You're back." She smiled broadly.

"I'm home." He stood, balancing Zola in one arm, hugging his wife in the other.

He followed her, holding a sleepy Bailey while Zola was getting ready for bed all on her own. He had missed this all so much and he was finally home and happy to be home. After putting Bailey down, he was wiped and it only took minutes, he went to kiss Zola goodnight, apparently she had memorised another one of her books and she pretended to read it to him. When she was finally asleep too he made his way into his bedroom, glad to find Meredith in bed waiting for him. If possible his smile stretched and launched himself in bed, wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled against him, but he could sense from the way her body tensed against his that the snuggling would not lead to clothes flying on the floor and the two of them spending the night naked together. He knew her and he just sighed and kissed her temple, resigned to an evening full of what he knew all too well would be way too many words.

"How was today?" he asked casually, knowing he couldn't ask outright what was wrong or she would just clam up.

Meredith turned up to him, eyebrows raised and a surprised look on her face. "Why?"

Derek brushed a few errant strands of hair behind her ear, he would have expected her to start an all too long recount of the days events, to get to the real reason she was obviously upset. "Can't I just ask my wife how her day was?"

"Oh, right." She answered wait too fast for his liking. His question obviously had gone straight to the point. Derek secretly congratulated himself on that one, it was entirely random, but in his mind it still counted. "Crappy, there was a car crash, we lost a kid."

His expression turned to genuine sympathy, but at the same time he knew this was not the reason for her distant behaviour. "I'm sorry."

Meredith snuggled deeper in her husband's embrace. After today all she wanted was to sleep and forget about everything that had happened. When she had left Amelia she stopped to take a moment and thank whoever made sure Bailey was alright, she had spent the entire pregnancy worrying about all the possible scenarios, trying to convince herself there was something wrong with him when he was perfectly fine. She couldn't even fathom what she had to go through – one would argue getting pregnant while on drugs didn't certainly guarantee a perfectly healthy child, but Meredith knew that not all the drugs in the world could be the cause of anencephaly, it was just bad luck. She couldn't help but see Amelia under a completely different light, the strength it must have taken to go through that, while in recovery and still grieving for the loss of the baby's father was not something she thought she could ever go through and come out in one piece. Meredith could see the cracks in Amelia, she did quite the job at keeping them covered up, but just below the surface she was barely together, Meredith felt bad about pressing her about her relationship with Owen, she remembered all the times Derek had pushed her a little and she had hid and run and avoided him until it was physically impossible. "Is Amelia home?"

"Yeah, she's got the flu. I put her to bed." Derek was stroking his thumb along the side of her neck.

"She's still sick?"

Derek was a bit taken aback at the tone of concern in Meredith's voice. In a good way. She and Amelia had not bonded, especially not in the way Addison and Amelia had, but they weren't even friends, they were civil and interacted as much as needed to live and work together. The edge in her voice told him a completely different story today. "What do you mean still?"

Meredith bit the inside of her cheek. "She wasn't feeling well today either, but I thought she'd be okay by now."

"Yeah well if it's the flu it'll be a couple of days before she's back on her feet." Derek stated switching off the lamp on his table. "Have you two been bonding?"

Meredith smiled, if only he knew. She never really made the effort with her because of what she knew _of_ her and from the way Derek talked about his sisters she'd just put Amelia in the same category as the other ones. She realised, though, not even Derek considered her as one of his sisters, it was them and Amelia, she wasn't just one of the wolves. "I really like her."

"Can we keep her?" Derek asked smiling, nuzzling her neck, while his hands slid all over her under the covers.

"What happened to no more strays?"

He sighed. He had said it so many times, yet he had brought home Lexie and taken in Callie and he just couldn't help it. "We both know I never really meant it." Mentioning Lexie would probably kill the mood, whatever mood that was. "And she's family."

While Meredith would have normally argued that every single one of the strays was family, she knew what he meant and she had felt it today. When Amelia told her the baby she lost was Derek's nephew, she couldn't help but think that he would have been her nephew too. She'd never felt the loss and wouldn't have to go through it, but it had affected her in a way she definitely didn't expect. "We can keep her for as long as she wants to stay."

"Good. You know, my mom will probably get us an enormous Christmas present this year." He said smirking, while Meredith looked horrified at his suggestion.

"For babysitting Amelia? Derek she is a grown up. She runs an entire department at work, she doesn't need babysitting."

He tilted his head and exhaled slowly before looking up into Meredith's eyes. "For being her family. She left home and Mom as soon as she could and never went back. When she lost her job she stayed with Addison and she became her family. Mom is thankful that when she reached out we took her in no questions asked."

Meredith looked surprised and, remembering Derek's mother vividly, was a bit thrown off at the suggestion that she wasn't able to handle her daughters, even Amelia. "Of course we did, you are her brother after all."

The smile on his face changed from happy to sad and disappointed. "Nancy would have never done it, would have never let Amelia in. Kate and Liz would pretend to accept her and treat her like a person, but deep down to them she's the family disappointment, the one you like on holidays because it makes you look good and it makes you feel better about ignoring her the rest of the year."

"Derek that's horrible." Meredith said. She never really had a family, she had her mother who always loved her work far more than she ever loved her, regardless it was a benign kind of ignoring and definitely not voluntary, Ellis Grey was not emotionally equipped to be a mother. Derek's sisters shunned Amelia. Ignored her. For the first time she realised that the very few times she had let Derek drag her to one of his family's get together, not one he enjoyed that much either, Amelia had never been there. She had never seen her in the presence of another one of the sisters, or her mother. "It's just horrible."

The guilt in his eyes, she knew, was nothing compared to that he still carried inside and she tightened her hold on him when he had to look away. "For a long time I did the same. Her and Addison were really close so I let myself believe I could ignore her, that she was being looked after. It's hard to love someone like Amelia. It's painful, but she's my little sister."

Meredith's eyes welled up. Now she knew exactly what he meant. "You have to be there for her. Derek, she really needs you right now."

"Right now?" he asked confused, they had been in bed for almost an hour and he hoped Amelia would still be where he left her, the dark circles under her eyes made her look skeletal.

Meredith sighed, _men_. "Not right this second. Be there for her, she's different from what you told me. She is a lot more grown up and put together, but don't let that fool you, she needs her big brother."

"What happened with the two of you today?" he inquired softly. "I'm starting to feel like I'm missing something here." If at first he had just thought that they had worked together, the lack of a response and the way Meredith was avoiding eye contact, set off all kinds of alarms in his head. "Meredith?"

She took a big breath and took his hand in hers, playing with his knuckles. "She had a bad day and needed someone. I was just there for her."

"A bad day? What kind of bad day?"

Meredith nodded, there was no way she would say anymore than that. She had actually promised she wouldn't tell him about it, so she sure as hell was not going to. "The kind where she feels all the pressure in the world on her and she feels completely alone. She just needed someone to be there for her."

Derek nodded, he wouldn't push it, he was positive from their talk earlier that Amelia was sober and while what Meredith was saying worried him, he trusted the both of them and especially Meredith to tell him if there was something seriously wrong. "What about Owen? Wasn't he there for her, I mean, I'm all for you being that person, but I thought he would…"

She grimaced. "Apparently that's over."

"That's too bad. What happened?"

It was Meredith's turn to avoid his gazed guiltily, it wasn't her fault they were broken up, she never said that. She had pushed. Still she felt like if she had said nothing maybe they would still be together. "I don't know."

Derek frowned. He knew that high pitched voice. "What do you know?"

"I might have talked to Amelia about her and Owen." Seeing Derek's reproachful gaze she became defensive. "I was just asking about – I was wondering how serious she was about it. I didn't want Owen, nor her, to get into something like that with different expectations, I didn't want anyone to get hurt."

He rolled his eyes. "Since when has that ever worked? And, seriously, I would have never pegged you for that person."

While his words were harsh and serious, his tone was soft and warm, which told her he wasn't mad, just maybe half surprised and half… something else. "Cristina asked me to look out for Owen and frankly at first I wasn't sure they would be that good of a match. Honestly, Amelia didn't strike me as that kind of person, she did come here running from her fiancée-"

"Meredith."

She stopped. "I want to fix it – them – though, but I think I'm going to need all the help I can get."

* * *

_I had a lot to say about this episode, but out of respect for Derek I'll shut up (just this once). Obviously in this story Derek will stay throughout the whole thing so don't worry about that. Now, I was super impressed with all the reviews and compliments and it's just really amazing and humbling. As far as Amelia is concerned I'm going to pull a Shonda (still kind of mad, but hey) and just say that she may be pregnant as she may not be, you'll just have to keep reading to find out. Bye_


	4. Four

_I somehow wish this was a happier chapter, but it was written well before last week. In a way writing this helped me realise how you need to screw everything up to go through the process of fixing (which is what we really always want to see), so yep. Again I'd like to remind everyone Derek is staying so very much alive in here. Also I'm sorry if I'm taking longer than usual to update, but life got in the way (fell from a horse) and the writing slowed down significantly._

_As always I absolutely love hearing what you all think and want to see in here, it's so nice that you all want to be on the roller coaster with me, promise it's all going to turn out well, in time. _

* * *

Owen was enjoying his slow morning, slow from the administrative point of view, all it would take to make it a little more exciting was to set foot into the ER and get his hands on one of the patients that the ambulances had brought in ten minutes ago, he'd heard the sirens. Instead, he was waiting for Amelia to walk in, he knew she wouldn't want to talk to him, but he had to see for himself how she was. It was annoying and he would have liked not to feel the need to make sure she was okay, but he just couldn't help it. The fact that he still hadn't seen her, while she was supposed to have been here already was driving him crazy, knowing that he couldn't call her or check up on her in any other way was distracting him. A little voice in the back of his head – conscience maybe – was telling him that if he were to put his hands inside a body right now he'd do more harm than good. This was her fault. She'd been the one with the water, coming to his trailer late at night. She had been the one to shed her outer shell and invite him in, amongst all the broken pieces. He had been doing so well without any of that again, he was sad and miserable and lonely and missing Cristina every waking second until Amelia told him he didn't have to be alone, that she was alone too, but that they could be alone together. He gave in and then she did her thing, she ignored him, brushed him off repeatedly and he couldn't help but being drawn in more every time, that was until she just told him it was over.

After about fifteen minutes of standing on the catwalk by his office staring at the door, all the while knowing that she could have got in from the ER, he saw her. Amelia was already changed in scrubs and lab coat and was walking in the hall carrying patient folders and what looked like lab results. Something residents or even interns did and there was neither following her. Owen felt the chief of surgery in him grow slightly irritated at her. Rational and emotional Owen knew and expected her to behave strangely today, after all he knew after professing how fine she was, she went home early yesterday. He spotted from his position far, far away from her a blood stain on her coat and realised she must have been here at the hospital working for a long time before he even thought of finding her. Instinctively he went to check on the OR board and saw that she had completed an aneurysm clip already and was scheduled for another surgery in a couple hours.

"Owen, I'm so glad I caught you." He turned around to see Derek. "Amelia – Doctor Shepherd – is not coming in today, she has the flu, it will probably take a few days for her to-"

He was not one to imagine things, he _had_ just seen her. He was sure of that. "Derek I've just seen her. She's been in surgery all morning and you're telling me she has the flu?" Owen was mad. After that little incident with Bailey he didn't even want sick doctors walking around, he especially did not want sick doctors walking around operating.

Derek frowned, he was sure he'd seen her at home. "Oh, I thought I saw her in bed when I left. She must be feeling better then."

"Derek I can't have her operating. We could be facing a lawsuit. She shouldn't have come in if she was still not feeling well."

He sighed, obviously Owen didn't have decades of experience in dealing with Amelia and probably had no idea how head strong and stubborn she could be. "Look, I told her to stay home, but until she can walk she's not going to stop." He shook his head, he'd come to the conclusion that arguing with her would be a waste of otherwise useful energy and if she really had the flu he would need that. Then what Owen said came to mind, he tilted his head, puzzled. "Still? What happened yesterday that nobody will tell me about?"

"Uh," Owen didn't really know what happened, but he had probably already talked to Meredith about it and she had not told him a thing, which meant something did happen. He was torn, he wanted to be there for Amelia and support her no matter what, but she had made it perfectly clear that whatever this was that the two of them had was a bad idea. He'd known even back then that she hadn't meant that, not exactly, nevertheless she had been actively avoiding him, so he had had no chance of finding out what was actually wrong. "You should ask Amelia."

Derek nodded, he could ask Amelia, but he already knew he wouldn't get an answer, not anything more than what Meredith told him last night and most likely even less than that. "Owen," he called right before he could walk away. "I know it's none of my business, but whatever happened between you?"

Owen hung his head sadly. "You should ask Amelia."

As if on cue he was called to the ER and finally had to work on someone. He was still distracted, but he'd worked on the battlefield so compartmentalising wasn't new to him and he was actually really good at it. Thoughts about Amelia and the fact that he wasn't just worried about her, but was slowly growing worried about her ability to do her job, underscored his entire stay in the ER and in surgery. Both Wilson and Pierce noticed he was somewhere else and pointed it out to him, which upset him at first, he didn't like to be questioned, but he soon realised it must have been bad if, not only they noticed, but felt the need to ask him about it wondering if everything was alright. Maybe Amelia had been right after all, mixing professional and personal wouldn't work, Owen was convinced she was using it as an excuse not to tell him the real reason she was breaking things off with him, but maybe it wasn't. He did know he could do it, he'd been married with Cristina and they worked together plenty without it ever being a problem, but Amelia was not Cristina and maybe she was right. He was walking down the hall, trying to figure out what he should do. He didn't actually know Amelia was sick, she didn't look sick when he'd seen her walking miles away from him for a few seconds that morning, the only reason he had that idea was because Derek had spoken to him. If it was any other one of his surgeons he wouldn't even think to check with them. Who was he kidding, he'd thought about calling last night to check on her or swing by this morning, the only reason he waited until he could quite literally stalk her in the hospital was that he knew what pressure did in these moments and he had no intention to make her feel that way.

Owen found her laying on her stomach on the bed of an on call room. She was asleep, he couldn't see her face, but he knew. He had spent enough time staring at her while she slept, memorising the way her curls fell around her head on the pillow, the curve of her back twisted in a way he thought impossible, but that apparently was comfortable enough to sleep, and how her could count every single one of her ribs whenever she would breathe in. He realised he should probably leave, walk around the corner and page her, but he couldn't move. He was well aware of why he shouldn't be here and why he couldn't be here, all the reasons they weren't together anymore were still valid ones in her mind. Nonetheless he was stuck, glued there, unable to do anything but breathe. Checking the other beds to make sure there was no one there, he sat on the other bed, not sure he could sit next to her and not wake her and also he knew for a fact there was no way he could sit there without hitting his head on the top bunk. For as long as he could, he actively ignored the voice in his head telling him he should go, for his and her sake. Owen wasn't blind he knew she was hurting at least as much as he was and he was still hell bent on figuring out what it was that had her walking around looking like it was the hardest thing in the world.

So he just sat there, the concept of time slowly fading away, it could have been a couple of minutes or an hour or just a handful seconds and he couldn't move. He'd been hesitant to give this – them – a chance and he'd been glad he caved until everything unravelled. All it had taken was a couple of months and he couldn't move a muscle, she had slowly become the sole centre of his universe. That feeling was so familiar to Owen he felt like laughing at himself for falling like that again, as long as it was good it was really, incredibly, mind numbingly good, but now that it was bad it felt like getting open heart surgery wide awake. His head fell in his hands, being so close to her and just looking at her, with no touching and no talking was more painful than seeing her walk around the hospital – still, there was nowhere else he'd rather be right now.

"Owen?" He heard her raspy, sleepy voice and looked up. She was frowning at him, eyes half closed, she hadn't moved an inch from her position. He just looked at her not knowing what to say, he felt a lump in his chest and it was hard to breathe. He had the urge to go over there and hug her and never let go, but despite thinking it and willing himself to move he didn't. Amelia rubbed a hand on her face, trying to wake up faster and get her brain working again. "What's going on?"

Owen sighed and shook his head, smiling at her like she was water in the desert. A mirage. "I was looking for you." She raised her eyebrows asking him to expand on that. She was not feeling like having anyone around today, Owen in particular. "Derek told me you have the flu, he was convinced you'd be at home resting."

She huffed overly annoyed at her brother. "I'm fine. It's not the flu, I'm perfectly fine today, I just ate something weird yesterday."

"Alright, then. I can't have sick doctors operating."

Amelia bit her cheek. She'd thought, whished, hoped he was worried about her, still annoying, but less… cold. "Got it. Don't worry, chief. I know not to get my hands inside a patient unless I'm a hundred percent."

Owen sensed the change in her. He knew he'd hit a spot and he flinched at the word 'chief'. That was not what he had meant. He couldn't tell her, not outright, but being chief was what gave him the excuse to check on her, professionally he was entitled to. The reason, however, he wanted to see her was as far from professional as it can get. "Amelia," he sighed, he didn't know what to say or how to say what he _really_ wanted to say without being misinterpreted. "I was worried about you."

"Well, you don't have to be, I'm-"

"Stop it!" he said a bit louder, turning to her. She wasn't expecting his reaction because she had literally jumped in bed and was now half sitting, facing him. "Stop saying you're fine, please, we both know you're not and no matter how many times you say it, it doesn't become any truer."

Amelia looked taken aback and slightly hurt at his reaction. He was such a level headed guy and in all the time she had known him she had never seen him lose control like this. She could see the pain in his eyes and how his whole body told her he was fighting something, something she wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was. "Of course I'm not fine. Out of everyone I thought you'd understand that and that I don't want to talk about it."

Sitting back Owen inhaled the stale air of the room, the smell of her shampoo leaving a bittersweet trace in his nose. "I do, I understand, but you're shutting everyone out, you're isolating yourself and I don't want you to be alone, because I know – I know you need someone to lean on."

"What I need," she started, her tone was bitter and angry and full of so many emotions she was barely keeping it all together. "What I need is for everyone to get off my back, to treat me like the head of the department, like a neurosurgeon and like an adult. Can you do that?"

Owen nodded numbly. "Sure, it's no problem."

That was what she wanted, but for some reason it still felt like losing. His voice was cold and distant and it hurt more than yesterday put together. She knew it wasn't fair to expect him to be there for her and take all the crap she kept throwing without fighting back, it didn't work. He wasn't Derek or Addison so he was pushing back, his version of pushing back, which unfortunately was shutting her out as well. Amelia saw him about to stand, after he had desperately tried to put himself together before walking out in the hallway. "Owen, wait."

He shrugged his shoulders, but the smile on his face was gone. "What, Amelia?"

"I never meant for any of this to happen. You know that, right?"

"I don't actually." He couldn't look at her anymore. This was the talk they should have had when she first tried to break things off. Owen knew she was in no condition to see things clearly now as it was obvious she was still upset, just like when that happened, but once again he couldn't leave. "I tried. I tried to talk and to understand. What I do know is that maybe you were right after all. It was a mistake."

Amelia straightened up in bed. The resignation she saw in his posture and the pain flashing in his eyes made her feel anxious. The sort of anxious that made her heart speed, the kind of anxious that was fear and panic all mixed together. "No, no Owen. I was wrong."

He raised his eyebrows looking at her with what could only be a sliver of hope. "You were wrong." She nodded, but he could see that she was waiting for him to say the next thing, to fix it. "How is that possible if this conversation is the proof that you were, indeed, right. How?"

"I don't know." Her voice cracked, she couldn't believe she was ruining this too. She felt the tears begin to form in her eyes and all she could think about was the baby from yesterday and how her heart had felt so heavy in her chest, too heavy. "I don't know, Owen."

He nodded, her tears made him feel so bad he had to look away. He'd believed in her, in what he'd seen in her blue eyes staring back at him, the things she had said and the way she made breakfast and how her back fit perfectly against his chest, warming him when nights in the trailer got too cold for comfort. "Was I… was I just a warm body? Just a guy, then?"

"No, never." she hated how watery her voice sounded, how weak and little it made her feel. "Not ever, but I can't. I just can't do it. It hurts so much-" She was sitting against the wall, arms hugging herself. Amelia was trying her hardest not to start sobbing uncontrollably, but this way she was barely breathing and couldn't get a word out. She kept trying to speak, to say something else, but her mouth would open and no sound would come out. Eventually she realised this was not going to work, she had a lot to say, but it would all remain unsaid. She just wrapped her arms tighter around herself, covering her eyes with one hand.

Despite himself Owen couldn't just sit there. Finding the ability to move he sat next to her and, keeping an eye out not to bump his head on the bed over them, he pulled her to him, holding her. The second his arms went around her, though, he felt her tense and he tried to look at her to see if he could guess what the hell was going on with her from the look on her face, but her forehead was pressing against his neck so hard and her face was buried against him. It felt like hugging a rock, cold and still, apart from her head leaning against him. Owen sighed. He still couldn't decide what was hurting him more either to love her and fight for her or to let go and watch her wither away like this, powerless and clueless. As soon as her breathing settled somewhat she pushed him away, just enough that he wouldn't be able to wrap his arms around her anymore. Amelia straightened her back against the wall wiping the tears, which luckily had not fallen down her cheeks maintaining at least externally some sort of composure, and breathing deeply all trying to avoid Owen's gaze at all costs. He was just there. The instinct to run and never look back was there, but, he knew, it was fear talking and what he felt for Amelia went beyond that.

"Owen." He turned around to look at her and, despite the red eyes and smudged black lines around them and messy hair, she was still a sight to behold. "I wanted this – us to work. I really, really did, but I'm me and running away from myself is impossible no matter how hard I try every time."

That could really go either way. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying I've done bad stuff and made a lot of bad decisions and I'm a mess, a bigger mess than most people are equipped to live with. I lost someone and it hurt so much that I don't think I could ever come back from that again – I don't even know how I did it then. I hurt a lot of the people that were there for me and loved me unconditionally and I will never forgive myself for that and I seem to keep doing that over and over again." She sniffled, still avoiding his eyes, but from her uneven and slow breathing he could tell it was taking her everything sh had not to break down again. "I don't want to do that to you."

This sounded a lot like the real reason she had broken things off with him in the first place. He should be glad she was finally opening up to him, but if he'd learned anything about Amelia was that this was not her opening up. He reached over to take her hand, but she pulled it away.

"Owen I don't have it in me. I thought I did, genuinely. I never set out to hurt you too, you have to believe that and I'm sorry. I thought I was ready, but I'm just right where I was three years ago and I can't drag you down with me, it's not fair."

Owen could feel the noise of his heart breaking in a million pieces all over again. "What if I wanted to be there for you? What if it's my choice, don't I get a say in any of this?"

Amelia smiled sadly at him and all he could feel was anger. Not towards her, not entirely, at what she was doing mostly, because he knew what she was about to say and knew he wouldn't be able to do anything about that. "Then I'm making the choice for you. I'm saying no and I'm doing it for me as much as I'm doing it for you. You need someone stable and loving and ready and not me, you deserve more than what I can give you." She stood abruptly, taking in a big breath. "I have surgery in forty minutes, if this is all I should go."

Owen looked at her and saw her trembling right underneath the surface and found comfort in knowing that she was feeling at least half as bad as he was. The change in her tone told him a lot, all those things she would never repeat out loud. She sounded so professional and detached, like when she had first arrived in Seattle, but there was a broken edge, one that told him it was hard for her to use that tone, but that for their sakes and their jobs it was the best course of action at the moment, so he did the same. "Of course. Just one thing." She was already at the door and they both knew it was to find another place, one that didn't come with him, to really put herself together to go back outside facing colleagues and patients. Reluctantly, Amelia turned around and bit the inside of her cheek to keep her eyes from watering up again. "About yesterday… I'm sorry if it brought up bad memories, as the chief I would completely understand if you maybe wanted to take some time."

She nodded, Owen was sure she'd tried to smile as well, but that just wasn't happening, only the dimples had come out. "Thank you, that's thoughtful, but I'm alright." They held each other's gaze and Amelia wanted to melt, the look in Owen's eyes told her that he was there, he wasn't pushing back, but he was definitely there and she didn't want him to be because he would only end up getting hurt and he didn't deserve that, he should want more for himself. "If I should ever need that I'll just ask."

Which was a lie and they both knew it, deep down at least. A white lie, as it obviously offered some comfort in a time of need.

* * *

_Whoops._


	5. Five

Meredith found Amelia in a room in the basement writing in what looked like notepads, surrounded by scans. She was worried sick about her, but didn't let it show for Derek's sake, he was worried enough for the both of them apparently. She had looked all over the hospital for her, tried paging her, but since she wasn't on call she'd probably switched off her pager or was simply ignoring the page knowing it was personal and not professional. There was a part of her that understood the coping mechanism and supported it a hundred percent, but as Derek had pointed out to her years ago, hers didn't include downing narcotics like candy. Meredith was acting on the assumption that Amelia's addiction was, in a way, similar to Richard's because she had witnessed that first hand and therefore could have some insight, but the more she got to know her sister in law, the more she realised she might as well know nothing about that at all. Meredith knocked softly on the door, not wanting to spook her. "I've looked everywhere for you."

Amelia turned her chair around, facing her. "This is one of those places where nobody ever comes. It's quiet – well, it was."

Meredith nodded, she knew all about the quiet, lonely places in this hospital. She walked over to the desk and sat down on one of the stray chairs. Amelia sighed and put down the pen she was holding, it was clear Meredith hadn't come all the way down there just to see her with her own eyes. "Look, I… I was worried about you. After what you told me I was worried." Amelia smiled and she saw right through it, she was about to brush her off and she didn't let her. "Wait. I was worried because I don't know you that well."

"Okay."

Meredith smiled, she had the distinct impression she was stumbling onto her own words, something she was desperately trying to avoid, seeing what happened the last time she tried to talk to her. "It's just that I know things about you and I don't know how worried I should be and if I Derek is right or maybe your history clouds his judgement, uh… I'm really not making sense am I?"

Amelia gave her a crooked smile and a quick nod.

"Can I be very, very blunt without you taking offense in anything I say?" Amelia nodded again, if anything she was intrigued. "I know all about having bad days and bad times, I may have done things that in light of my mental sanity are much worse than doing drugs, but I know a bit about addiction and I understand how little control you have over it."

Meredith looked at her with a hopeful smile, she didn't know how else to say what she wanted to say. On the other hand, Amelia didn't seem hurt or upset by her words, rather relieved if anything. When Meredith didn't go on for longer than what was an acceptable pause Amelia nodded in her direction, eyebrows raised, urging her to go on.

"I understand dark and twisty. For some time in my life all I did was dark and twisty and I know for a fact that Derek doesn't get that, not many people get that."

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Dark and twisty. What's that?"

Meredith sighed. "It's those times when you don't understand why you weren't one of those people who grew up with smiley posters on the wall and you didn't go to prom and don't like pink, when you realise that for some reason you're different and people don't do different, so your whole life… sucks."

"I think I got that." Amelia sat cross legged on her chair, Meredith was making little to no sense in what she was saying and part of it, she knew, was because she was afraid she would either hurt her feelings or send her into the spiral of addiction with a bunch of words. "Meredith you can just say it, stop beating around the bush, God knows everybody else has no problem getting straight to the point."

Meredith nodded. "Right. I need to know what's dark and twisty for you and what's a risk of you going back to rehab, I don't know when it's alright to let you brood and when I should get worried. So, what I am asking is that you give me some directions, just to be able to understand a little better and maybe make your life easier." When Amelia gave no sign of responding in any way she thought she might have crossed the line, just a smidge. "I know I'm being pushy-"

"No, I grew up with pushy, you're just asking, trust me." Amelia saw the half smile Meredith gave her and remembered she had probably met all of her sisters and got a taste of that first hand. Meredith was the sister she had always needed growing up, even Addie never got it, not really, she was there for her even more than Derek ever was, but she didn't actually get it. What Meredith was asking was to trust her and to talk to her and in exchange she would get to sit in dark room all by herself without being followed or have to see a shrink about it. "I really appreciate what you're trying to do."

Meredith then smiled, she was finally getting around to being able to talk to her and get to her. "Sure. I mean, I might have already said it a thousand times, but I was worried about you."

"And," Amelia tilted her head. "you don't have to be."

"But I do anyway." She insisted. "It's this contagious thing called family. We're not even family by blood, but I can't help it, so you might as well accept it and go with it. Your brother infected me so it's his fault, really."

Amelia looked down, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The people back in LA were her family and, for years, she hadn't even tried reconnecting with her original one– apart from Derek – thanks to their presence and overwhelming support. She'd missed this in Seattle, people kept to themselves a lot more, as far as she knew everyone was up in everyone's business here as well, but in a somewhat more discreet and distant way. Despite how annoying it could be, she really did enjoy having someone looking out for her. "I'm listening."

Meredith shrugged her shoulders. "You haven't been home in days. Many days. I don't care where you are staying or what you are doing and I can't say if it's you running away from something or something uh, worse. Derek has been going out of his mind and I guess all his worries and fears are slowly becoming mine too. I want you to know that if you need time and want to hide out it's alright – to me – and you can tell me because I understand that, just as I would never hold your addiction against you, but you have to tell me because people assume things when you disappear, you don't have the luxury to just be you."

"I can understand that." Amelia nodded. Meredith was making her feel more at home than… whatever place was home at the time, but opening up and talking about her baby had been a one time thing, she wasn't going to make it an habit – she couldn't. She pointed to the sofa at the back of the room. "I have been staying here, all this time. I'm trying to uh, figure out what I am doing here."

"A patient?" asked Meredith intrigued peeking at the scans spread all over the desk and walls.

"No, in the general sense. I kind of hit a wall, I'm lost."

Meredith looked at her. Her face had a way of turning sad, her confidence – pretend confidence – crumbling down. On the job she was a kickass surgeon, not afraid to engage in power battles with Derek or any of all the other talented surgeons at the hospital. She seemed confident enough personally to stand up for herself. Under the surface Meredith, though, could see how insecure she really was, understandably, but it just made her feel even more protective of her. While at first when Amelia would talk to her and get defensive, she sometimes took it as an attack, as a reaction to her personally, now knowing what she knew now it was abundantly clear it was anything but. "See this is what I mean, is this normal or should I worry?"

Amelia bit her lip, none of this was normal, but she knew what Meredith meant. She realised she should compromise, after all the other day she had unloaded a sea container of baggage on her and she was now here trying to understand instead of judging or trying to kick her out. "Meredith I… when I relapsed I spent months afterwards trying to pull myself together, it was devastating. The first time I crashed a car," she smiled sadly, avoiding her gaze. "I overdosed, but after I got clean I got into med school and I was able to leave it all behind me. This time I spent months carrying a baby whose father had died in bed next to me and then he died too minutes after he was born. I honestly don't think I could ever relapse again, I crawled my way back from that, but I would never be able to do that again." Amelia took a deep breath and looked Meredith straight in the eye. "I'm still putting what's left together, sometimes there are bad days, like these, but as long as the good outnumber the bad you don't have to worry at all."

It was obvious, but she knew that while it sounded a lot like the truth and not any excuse to get her off her back, it was also a really good reason for Amelia to let herself just go and actually relapse. The tone of her voice sounded like resignation instead of determined and driven, like she was slowly letting go. She knew, she'd done it plenty. Holding a bomb and drowning and telling a man with a gun to shoot her. It was for that reason precisely that she needed Amelia to understand that it was okay not to be okay, and she would support any coping mechanism she needed, baring the ones that would put her life and that of the people around her at risk. "Okay. So you're not alright-"

Amelia nodded. "But I will be. I'm not going to knock over the pharmacy here."

Meredith nodded, she wasn't a hundred percent convinced, maybe she should ask Richard to keep an eye on her, if anyone he had an idea what addiction looked like it was him and he could help her in a way no one else here could. Then again everything she had just said would be a lie – starting off by lying wasn't really the best way to get Amelia to trust her. Meredith tried to think of the best way to do this. She remembered how stubborn and unreasonable Amelia got in the bathroom and how when she has pulled out her mommy voice she had just got along and done what she said, so maybe what Amelia needed was some guidance. "Can we make a deal?"

In the spirit of compromising Amelia didn't say no right away. "What kind of deal?"

"You can have all the space you want, but you come over for dinner. Tonight or tomorrow, you don't have to stay after, I know the kids are a bit much sometimes, but just stay for leftover pizza or whatever is in the fridge." Before Amelia could say anything she, once again, cut her off. "You can't say no."

Amelia thought about for a second. "Wait, if it's a deal what do I get?"

Meredith smiled, obviously this method worked wonders not only with her children. "I get Derek off your back and everyone else as well. I know you don't need help in that, but I thought maybe you could do with easier this time around. You get time to brood and I don't spend my nights in bed with my husband fully clothed, talking about you."

"Fair enough." She smiled trying with all her might not to let pictures form in her head, she really did not need that. It was reasonable enough and, while she would prefer to be alone at the moment, she wasn't avoiding Derek or Meredith personally, so really she was right. It would make Derek happier and not as worried about her.

Meredith stood, satisfied with the result, it wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but this would work too. Hopefully. "You know, people is good. I understand the need to be alone, but it's not healthy, not in the long run. I know you want to prove to yourself that you can do it alone, but you don't have to. You should have people."

"Well I have you guys and a bunch more people in LA, who like nothing better than being elbow deep in my business-" she had missed at first the suggestive tone in Meredith's voice, she was listening and answering to her, but what she was saying had enough subtext that it didn't even qualify as subtext. "You mean Owen."

Meredith's smile told her everything she needed to know and she wanted to strangle her for a second. She had finally settled her relationship with Owen, there was no way she would get into that again. That's what everyone had told her after her baby died, she needed people, so she had ended up with James and then running away from him, because she realised all she had done was use him as a shoulder to lean on until she could walk by herself again. Amelia wouldn't do that to Owen, not that she had intentionally hurt James either, but knowing that and learning from her mistakes, she could prevent herself from hurting Owen. "Me and Owen are over. We talked, tied up all the loose ends. We never really – I don't even know what that was, but trust me, this is the right thing to do."

"Whatever you say." Meredith was now even more motivated to get them back together. For days she'd seen Owen walking around with a look on his face she hadn't seen in a while, thankfully, because it was the saddest, most depressing look and her new, happy self could not handle that. Derek had advised her against taking any action, convinced that firstly she had already gone down that road and the result was splitting them up and, secondly, it was none of her business, both Amelia and Owen were adults and could deal with their own lives. Right, she wasn't going to do that. Her plan sounded much, much better and definitely more fun. She stood grinning at her accomplishment.

"You were wrong, you know." Said Amelia and Meredith turned to see her exactly where she left her, pen in her hand. She raised an eyebrow, she had missed the first part of that. "You are a good sister. Better than the ones I've got. Your sister was lucky to have you."

Meredith felt her eyes tear up at the mention of Lexie. She didn't think about her much, moving to the dream house meant she had no reminders around of her, so it was just walking past her picture on the wall, or somewhere around the hospital that made her face pop into her head, she'd hear her laugh and see her smile. Meredith pursed her lips. "I made a lot of mistakes, I wasn't the best sister I could be."

Amelia shrugged her shoulders and turned looked away for a moment. "I'll see you tonight, for dinner."

Meredith smiled, fully accepting the win here. Making her way to the ER she saw Owen talking to a patient's family outside one of the trauma rooms. He looked tired and gloomy, it was quite evident from just looking at him that what Amelia called 'tying up loose ends' hadn't been a calm and civil conversation or at least a mutual agreement. For a split second she considered going over to talk to him, now that she felt like she knew Amelia a little better she truly believed she could maybe patch things up without even trying. After all, whatever happened seemed to have been all Amelia's doing and she, even though never directly, had never denied it. Observing a little more closely, though, Meredith noticed the lost and sad look in his eyes resembled a lot the one he had for weeks after Cristina moved away. Deep inside of her Meredith felt her stomach turn, she felt slighted – on Cristina's behalf – that it had taken Owen a couple of weeks, or months, with someone else to feel like that again. When the rational and logical part of her brain kicked in she realised that this was amazing news. For her. Her guilt over misinterpreting Amelia and most likely causing their break up was fuelling her need to fix it, if anything to feel better about it, they might break up all over again, but as long as it wasn't because of her it was their business.

When Owen looked up and met her gaze she just smiled awkwardly and went on to her consult. His eyebrows furrowed and confusion was written all over his face. She was being weird and not the good kind of weird. Some days he hated being chief. Most days really, but at least it kept him busy. Glancing at the ER board he noticed all patients were being looked after and so this was the perfect moment to go out for some fresh air, well not actual air, just somewhere that didn't feel too familiar. He considered going to the vent room, but that really wouldn't make his five minute break an actual break. Eventually he realised no place in this hospital would really offer him the kind of memory free break he was looking for, so he settled on leaning against the wall just outside of the ER. It was a slow day today, he was alone out there, no noise, no people talking, no sirens.

* * *

_I did say it would be slow, but that was before realising I had a chapter as long as half the entire thing, so I broke it down in a million pieces. I'd like to point out that I had this whole thing written through chapter seven (which, yes, I know you haven't read yet) before last night's episode, because there are a lot of disconcerting similarities, either I'm really perceptive or the writers are doing a crap job at being original. Moving on, I'm so very glad this episode was that long because it was one of the most boring ones, apart from very few scenes that made it totally worth watching (ya know what I'm talking about), I mean, seriously boring. _

_Let me know what you think and, while I'm trying not to spoil anything, but if I had to I'd name this chapter 'the calm before the storm'. So yep, if I were you I'd stay tuned, just saying. Bye peeps._

_p.s. thanks for the well wishes, I don't usually fall that often (I broke an almost year long record), but it's grounding and despite the bruises, I think, a necessary evil - and the horse threw me so, really, there was little I could do._


	6. Six

_So I sort of forgot to update, oops. Main reason is I do have a life and it recently had been unexpectedly demanding, so there's that. On a side note I had an idea and didn't know whether to take this story there or start another one entirely (because apparently I seem to be convinced I have enough time for that) and also all the brilliant original ideas I had for this one were used in the show last week and so I was unsure if I should change some things or just keep going and have it more show canon-like. Not that I made up my mind, but all the seeds I'm planting can be eradicated if I were to change my mind on anything. _

_Let me know what you all think about this, where you'd like to see it go (just feed my curiosity) and I promise to make an effort to update sooner, horses permitting (I know I sound like a broken record). Enjoy_

* * *

"You look like crap." Owen turned around abruptly, Callie was leaning against the wall in much the same way he was. It was beyond him how he had just not seen her. He shrugged, he wasn't feeling much better. He sighed, shaking his head and keeping his eyes fixated on one of the creaks on the concrete under his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that-"

Then he looked up, noticing the look on her face matched his own more than he would have wanted it to. He gave her the biggest smile he could manage, a sad, sympathetic one. "Don't worry about it. I haven't looked, but I feel like crap, so."

It was Callie's turn to smile, while still sympathetic hers was warmer and made him feel a little better. She looked down as well and Owen sensed she was hesitating to say something, not that she ever did, but something was definitely holding her back. Arching an eyebrow he looked at her and she took a deep breath. "How are you, really?"

He contemplated whether he should lie and if so how much. That thing with Amelia, that thing that still kept him up at night some times, was over before it began, Meredith and Derek knew about it, but no one else at the hospital did. It wouldn't make sense to talk about it now. "I'm doing well." The way her eyes narrowed forced him to correct his previous statement. "I'm mostly doing well."

"You still miss her?" right when she thought she'd hit the nail right in the head, the momentary look of confusion and the frown on Owen's face told her that she'd missed the point, if not entirely by a lot at least.

Hoping she missed that, he tried to go with whatever she was saying. "Always."

"But," she started, a knowing smile on her face. "that's not why you're out here alone."

Owen's eyebrows raised and he looked at her with a mock annoyed look. "I'm not alone."

"No, you're not and you're stalling, which means you really need to talk about something. You need to let it out." She saw how he was about to protest and her day had been bad enough, so she needed to do this. Plus, if his frown stayed on for any longer it would soon become a permanent feature and that couldn't happen. "Come on. Spill."

He shook his head slowly, his jaw was so tight, almost as if he was trying to physically stop himself from talking. "Seriously Callie, I don't need this. Why are _you_ out here?"

"I think you can guess why, my private life is all over the hospital." Her look then softened. "Owen I'm not prying, you look… sad. I thought you were better, I mean I saw you smiling for a while there, but these past few days you have been sulking."

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a second. He hadn't even realised that people had noticed, he'd been so wrapped up in his life, that he'd forgotten how the fast the gossip flew around here and that, despite their best effort, people had most likely guessed what was happening between him and Amelia all along. Considering if he should take the opportunity to talk about it he took in deep, deep breaths, trying to clear his mind. "Something… happened and now it's over and… I don't even know why I'm feeling like this."

Callie had a perplexed look on her face. His face was turned to the ground and she could see his eyes, still and unfocused staring right ahead. It wasn't until she noticed his hand, though, clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white, that she could feel just how tense he was. Taking a closer look she realised he looked just about ready to explode. "Something, was that a girl – uh, woman, a woman?"

Owen was shaking his head, imperceptibly, but continuously, while avoiding her eyes almost as if he was afraid that with one look he could see right through him. Thinking that maybe she'd pushed a bit too far, he obviously wasn't ready to talk about whatever happened, she leaned against the wall as well, mirroring his position. "I must be so out of practice. I thought it was real and serious and… it turned out to be just _something_."

She narrowed her eyes. "So, we are talking about a woman here?" he finally turned around and saw it in his eyes, they were distant and melancholy, literally blue. His whole face, though, had a disillusioned edge that was heart breaking. "You were dating someone?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

He shrugged, but had to look away, she'd never mention the glint she saw in his eyes, for she knew that underneath the army uniform there was none of that confidence and strength he fearlessly displayed on the outside. "I think I tried to replace Cristina. I wanted someone in my life like that again, I was blinded by my expectations to really see what was happening and I thought everything was going so well. Then she started pushing me away and I don't even know why, before I even had a chance to say anything she just broke it off, like it never even happened."

Callie frowned. "How long did that go on for?"

"A few months." He murmured. "It just felt so real, you know?"

"It was." When Owen turned to her with a sceptic look and an arched eyebrow, she insisted. "It was. If it felt that way, then it was."

Owen shook his head vehemently, Amelia had made it pretty obvious that she couldn't do real, so in a way, it never had been. "But I don't want it to be. I thought I was done and then she made me believe that I had another shot but…"

The tone of his voice, harsher than what was appropriate, told her he was deeply hurt by whatever happened, which made her want to strangle whoever was responsible for making such a good man feel like this. "Screw her, then. There's plenty more fish in the sea. Obviously she wasn't the one."

Noticing the way he hung his head and didn't even react to what she'd just said, her eyes grew softer. This mystery woman, in just a couple of months, had done a number on big bad Major Hunt. She barely managed to contain her curiosity, judging from the dejected look on his face he was in no mood to handle any kind of prodding and also Callie was almost completely sure, from the typical guy approach to his relationship, that nobody knew about this and he must have been going crazy dealing with this all by himself. "Why did she end things?"

Owen stared into her eyes for a few, long seconds, then looked down at his shoes and then back at her. She could almost see the dilemma going on in his head on his face. "She has… issues. I knew that, I understood and I supported that and she knows I do, but… I don't know, one day out of the blue she just told me it was all a mistake."

"And you didn't say anything?" Callie was genuinely surprised, Owen was not one to take crap from anybody, so whoever this was must, they have a giant pair to just do that.

"Uh, I tried actually, but it's really complicated. She asked me to leave her alone, I could have pushed and made things worse for the both of us." He balled his hands in his lab's pocket, he was well aware it was a tell tale sign, one that Callie knew very well. "She deserves better."

Callie snorted, arching one of her perfect eyebrows. "From what I hear, so do you, by far."

She might have been right, after all that's what Amelia told him and that was what a big part of him believed as well. He had enough issues himself, in theory he should have been looking for someone who could offer emotional and psychological stability, someone normal and well adjusted, someone who was not Amelia Shepherd. For some twisted joke, though, while he couldn't be with Cristina again and he'd accepted that, he wanted Amelia, at all costs. The fact that he was broken in a way that it's hard to understand unless you've been there, made all the more sense when he thought about her. From the little he knew about her and her past he could tell she'd gone through more than the average person sees in an entire lifetime and still she was standing right there, performing impossible surgeries and moving on with her life. "Maybe. It's just that she used a lame excuse to break things off and I know there is more to it and I think she just got scared, but she won't talk to me, not really. I mean, what kind of an excuse is that it isn't inappropriate to mix professional and personal? In this place of all-"

"Wait, she works here?" Aw, man. So much for keeping it as faceless and nameless as possible. "Do I know her?"

"No." he said immediately, but the look on Callie's face told him he better start talking or else. "Yes, but it doesn't matter who she is. It's over."

"Is it Edwards?"

Owen's face was the perfect mixture of shocked, confused and horrified. "No, why would you think that?"

Callie's face lit up suddenly. "Oh my God, is it Pierce? No, wait it can't be-"

"Callie stop." he said firmly, but he wasn't harsh or angry, just a bit rattled. "Just forget about it. I tried and it didn't work. You were right, maybe I have used up all my happy, maybe Cristina was it for me and now I'm going to spend the rest of my days alone in the trailer. It just hurts too much to keep trying."

Callie tilted her head, he really did look so hurt it seemed strange that such a short relationship left him in such a state. Despite how intrigued she was regarding this mystery doctor woman or nurse or whatever she did at the hospital, her friend needed a proverbial kick in the butt to move on in the right direction. "Owen what do you want?"

"Her."

She nodded, slowly, it had to be his idea, he was stubborn enough that if she told what to do he would just disregard it as someone else's opinion on his life and not an actual potentially useful tip. "Why aren't you with her, then?" he hung his head, he didn't need to spell it out for Callie to understand that whatever reason it was, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. "You shouldn't let one failure stop you. I can understand getting back on the horse is hard, but it's all that it takes, once you're on, things will be easier."

"So you think I should just move on, find someone else, just like that?" he asked. It was true, he had let his feelings and emotions take over to see what was going on, after Cristina left he'd expected the next woman to come into his life to be the one. He hadn't even thought to just take things slow and actually let himself go through the whole process of getting to know some new and fall in love all over again. Owen realised he'd felt a connection to Amelia that he had never felt with anyone, ever in his life, but as their relationship progressed he'd pushed the responsible voices in his head away, the ones telling him she was fragile, despite her best effort to pretend otherwise, and it had been too much for her. Truth was, deep in his heart he truly still believed Amelia was the one, the one he'd ever be able to feel that for, but maybe Callie was right, maybe he should just look for someone else. If anyone knew how love sometimes just isn't enough to keep a relationship afloat it was definitely him. "I honestly don't think I can do that."

She smiled broadly. "Baby steps. Try not to get too attached." Callie silently congratulated herself on this, if only she could take her own advice her life would be infinitely easier. She looked up at Owen and, to her surprise, noticed something on his face. "Is there something else?"

Owen sighed. He hadn't given this much thought and frankly with everything going on with Amelia he'd just discarded the idea, but after this little talk with Callie he realised it might just be the perfect idea after all. "Teddy called. She told me they are looking for people to go back to train recruits. She offered me a position and-"

"You're leaving?"

Owen shook his head, but he obviously wasn't all that convinced either. "I don't know. I wouldn't be leaving forever, they take turns of three to six months."

Callie licked her lips pensively, she had had a front row seat to the disaster that had been him dealing with PTSD. She saw it in his eyes, the dilemma. Cristina leaving and this new relationship had made going back to the army an appealing opportunity, even temporarily, but the way his last tour wrecked him was more than enough reason to make it the worst possible idea. "You're considering it?"

"I said no." He said looking straight into her eyes. "At first. Then I called back to ask for the details. There's a plane leaving in three weeks. I guess I've given it some thought."

She nodded, she felt a bone chilling shiver go all the way down her spine. "You think that's a good idea? I mean, after last time…"

He shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't a good idea. He knew that going back was a risk, he could end up dead or paralysed or maimed or just come back as broken, if not worse, as last time. Owen was forever grateful for Cristina, and Teddy, because back then not many people were there for him and he could have easily ended up alone. Not many trusted him, especially after he accidentally strangled Cristina, he knew for a fact if Meredith had her way he would have never seen Cristina again. It was a risk, a big one. "I need to do something that feels useful. I need to feel that way again. With everything that's happened lately, I need to feel needed like that again."

Callie's eyes softened as she took in the open vulnerability in his words and his eyes. "I know it won't sound like much, but you _are_ needed here, as the chief and as a surgeon and as a friend."

"Thanks." He nodded, knowing she wasn't just saying these things to make him feel better. "I just want more. You're all working on research and new procedures and I don't care about that, but the work I did in the war zone was so fulfilling and it made me feel needed and important and useful."

Callie grinned. "Then you go, if you're sure. We can hold down the fort while you're gone." At Owen's surprised look she reiterated. "Oh, no, not me, no, absolutely not. We'll get Webber or someone, maybe Derek. If you feel this is what you want, then go. Make us all proud Major Hunt. Just one thing." He raised his eyebrows waiting. "Do come back, okay?"

He felt his mouth stretch into a smile. Maybe he needed to go to realise how much he wanted to be here. He caught a glimpse of Amelia wheeling someone into the ER and thought that maybe it would do her good too. At least she would have time to think about things and figure out what it was that she wanted, because as much as he wanted her he wasn't up to the fight anymore. He turned his eyes back before Callie could catch on and he found her smiling at him, whatever that meant, but didn't say anything.

After dark, right about the time to go home, Amelia had called Meredith to let her know she would pick up the kids from daycare and spend some time with them, it had been days since she had seen her niece and nephew. The surprise in Meredith's voice was genuine and Amelia had taken it as a good sign, at least she hoped she was right.

"Why are you here?" Derek walked up to her in the hospital lobby, looping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek for a few seconds. "I thought you said you'd pick up the kids today."

Meredith smile smugly and turned around so that he would see every single wrinkle on her cheeks. "Amelia offered to take them, she's meeting us here."

The surprise on Derek's face, though, was tinged by suspicion and she could see in his eyes the look that for such a long time had been one dedicated to her only. Actually, it might have been exclusively Amelia's and when she came along she just stole it. It was the shadow in his eyes that told her that in his head he was going over the list of possible things that could go wrong right that moment. She'd seen it after she drowned, after the shooting, after the plane crash. Clearly these days it was Amelia's again by right and she was not even a little bit jealous. Before she could say anything he spoke, while nodding slowly and trying out a smile. "That was nice of her." but of course the second he caught the almost imperceptible raise of her eyebrows and continued. "Considering she hasn't been home all week."

His own eyebrows rose and he looked at her expectantly. "I talked to her, just like you asked me to."

"I'm impressed."

Meredith nodded. "You should be. She's staying over for dinner."

He gave her his million-watt smile and pulled her to him. However the moment was short lived, because a second later he pulled back and gave her an inquisitive look. "For dinner? As in then she leaves and disappears again afterwards?" as he noticed she was about to roll her eyes his gaze turned into the one he'd use to scold Zola whenever she didn't want to put her shoes on. "Meredith."

"Derek relax, she doesn't disappear, she's here at the hospital everyday. Look, she needs space. She's coming for dinner so that's good." she shrugged her shoulders. "Don't pressure her."

He exhaled loudly, rubbing his temples. "Meredith, how many times do I have to tell you she's not like you. Amy needs checking up, you can't just ask her if she's okay and stop at that." He sighed seeing Meredith's eyes. The look on her face wasn't dejected or sad, it was angry and disappointed and Derek had no idea why that was. He tried to think about every single word he'd said to make sure she couldn't have taken anything the wrong way. Letting his shoulders fall, giving in to whatever he had done without even trying to fight, he just looked at her. "What?"

"You asked me to talk to her and I did and I am completely sure that she is handling her life with a maturity you don't think she has and she is not on the verge of relapsing." Meredith said curtly, the patronising attitude Derek had where Amelia was concerned was getting on her nerves, she knew there was history and she would never question that, but he needed to see that she was a different person now and he had to treat her accordingly.

Talking about Amelia was obviously a touchy subject for Derek because his reaction was in no way justified. "Meredith, you're my wife so I'm going to say this nicely, stay out of it. You don't know her, you don't know what she's been through and what she put all of us through. You don't know the signs and the lies and the pain."

Before either could say anything and, possibly, turn this argument into a full blown fight, Derek's phone vibrated, he read the text without saying anything and then looked up. "Amy left her jacket in her locker, I'll go get it for her, I'll be right back." He turned around and walked away, his tone was flat, but his eyes were hard and angry. Meredith knew it wasn't anger, it was a protective mechanism, but it still hurt and made her all the more angry at him. Derek tried to slow his breathing on his way, making the most of these few minutes he had alone to calm down, he was taking out on Meredith pent up frustrations that weren't her fault. Or Amelia's, for that matter. Nonetheless it was hard for him to hear anyone telling him how to handle his little sister, the bond they shared nobody could ever understand, not their mother, not their sisters, not anyone. He felt in charge of her, of making sure she was okay and happy and healthy and up to now he had done a crap job at that, apart from saving her life, that is. For the first time in forever he had seen her happy, but since he found out about her and Owen, all the alarms in his brain had been set off, in a way he truly believed she was growing up, but all the while he kept worrying about how her and Owen seemed like the worst match possible. He pushed the sick feeling in his stomach down and just went for her locker, knowing the combination by heart.

However, his steel like demeanour was severely tried when, upon opening the locker and rummaging around a bit, he came across a bottle of what looked like scotch or brandy or rum, the label was hidden by all the junk she kept in there, and it looked not just open, but half empty. "Dammit, Amy."


	7. Seven

_I do apologise for the long wait, I have no excuses I just forgot to update. See, I have a bit more already written yer somehow I forgot about this completely. I will make a serious effort to update at least regularly. This story is taking a really interesting shape and it's headed in all sorts of interesting ways (you'll have to trust me on that), so yeep. Stick around and I promise to try and remember to actually post the chapters besides writing them._

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Derek felt his pulse quicken dangerously. Worry, anger, pain were all pushing their way in him, generating a mess of emotions he wasn't ready for tonight. He was never ready for that, but after the past few months he just wanted to catch a break. He was blaming himself. He'd seen the signs, there had been a time Amelia would sit in their living room sofa at night staring out the large window in front of it, she would sit there for hours and he wasn't as far into his medical education as he would have needed to know what that was. Logic and common sense had not served him at all. His mother had no idea what was wrong with her, all the other Shepherds were too busy with their lives to care, they were all blinded by jealousy of mom's favourites, the golden child and the baby, to actually care. It had been so hard that when Addison called two years ago to tell him about Amelia relapsing he had been relieved she was there. The fact that she got along so well with Addison had always been cause for even more friction between the two, so much that she was the one keeping the two siblings together. He called, more times than necessary, judging from Meredith's face when he was on the phone with his ex wife, but he had this inexplicable need to make sure she was alright, while keeping his distance. Loving Amelia from afar was something he'd become masterful at in the past decade.

He wanted to run and throw the bottle at Meredith's face showing her he was right. The grown up in him, the mature, composed, adult in him refrained from even pulling the bottle out of the locker, he just grabbed the jacket and headed back into the lobby. Meredith had been blind to it, even with Richard. When he found her she was standing exactly where he left her, still waiting for Amelia to show up with the kids. The second she saw him she knew something was wrong. Derek took a big, big breath and tried to calm down before opening his mouth. "There was a bottle in her locker." Meredith nodded, signalling him to continue, she hadn't quite caught his drift. "Rum."

"So?"

Derek sighed exasperatedly. "So, it was half empty."

Meredith's eyes grew as big as her skull allowed and finally caught on to where Derek was heading. "You think she's drinking?" she knew drunk. Hell, she'd spent the better part of her twenties drunk somewhere in Europe, she knew drunk very well and Amelia wasn't drunk. Today. Amelia hadn't been drunk today for sure. "Derek you can't jump to conclusions like that-" The look he gave her, though, told her there was no more hiding and no more protecting to be done on her side.

"I don't know why she keeps doing this." he was shaking his head, holding on Amelia's jacket for dear life. Meredith saw the devastation on his face and just went over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, unsure of just how much he wanted to be comforted, this Derek was new to her. "We tried everything and she keeps falling back down."

Meredith nodded. It hurt her physically to see her husband in so much pain. She was sad and disappointed in Amelia and still half convinced they should talk before making such assumptions, but decided this wasn't the moment to say anything about that. Amelia had looked her in the eyes and told her she wouldn't let herself go to addiction ever again. Obviously, addiction was a disease and Meredith knew that well enough, but she was there when she told her about her baby and about her fiancée dying and there was something in the way she said it that made her believe every single word Amelia had said. "I'm so sorry." He just leaned into her touch, but didn't reach out, both his hands gripping the leather jacket.

Before either of them had any more time to process whatever this was, they heard Bailey calling for them and turned to see Amelia holding him, Zola walking right behind her. she looked as normal as she'd looked earlier today, but Meredith felt uneasy seeing her holding her baby knowing she might be relapsing, even if that was Derek's fear and not her own. The heaviness in his chest and the pain in his eyes had made it her worry as well.

"Sorry, I know we're late, but someone fell and needed to put on a special band aid." Zola was rolling her eyes clearly annoyed at her brother, however this prompted no reaction in either parent, they could see the giant alien band aid on Bailey's knee, knowing that since he discovered them he'd been sticking them everywhere. Noticing the look in their eyes Amelia's smile faded and her brows furrowed growing worried herself. "Did something happen?"

Meredith looked at Derek who nodded, tilting his head a little toward the door. "I'll just take the kids to the car." She offered, taking Bailey from Amelia and motioning for Zola to follow her outside.

Amelia looked at the scene dumfounded. Meredith had come to see her today and now she was acting as if she was the last person she wanted to see. No, there was more than that. The look on her face wasn't angry or annoyed, it was pity. She turned to her brother, who was holding her jacket so tight in his hands he looked just about ready to rip it apart in a matter of seconds, she reached to take it from him, but he gave no sign of wanting to give it to her. "Derek, what's going on?"

Derek looked up at her. Amelia knew that look, she knew that look all too well. "Why, Amy, why?"

"Why what?" she asked, careful to keep her voice levelled and emotionless, because she had a hunch where this was going and she had no intention of airing her dirty laundry in the hall of the hospital.

He shook his head, but looked away, down at his feet. "What's wrong this time? Is it the pressure of the job? Is it me? Is it Owen? I'm going out of my mind trying to understand-"

"Understand what?" she was getting agitated. She was more than aware of the fact that she hadn't been home in days and days, but she wasn't hiding, Meredith found her and she was sure if he'd tried to he would have too.

Derek's eyes connected to hers, there was exasperation and disappointment written all over them, while she knew the look and got that look too many times to count, she had no idea what she had done to deserve it now. "I found the bottle."

"What bottle?"

Derek narrowed his eyes angrily, _now_ he was angry. She didn't even have the decency to spare him all the lies this time around. The tone of her voice was so fake and clueless he could read right through her. "The one in your locker."

Amelia frowned, genuinely confused, not that Derek would notice. This attack was not what she had expected when she walked into the lobby, she was still a little bit excited about having dinner with people and not chairs and brain scans. She had no idea what in the world Derek was talking about – unless. She knew what bottle it was. A patient had given her a bottle, she wasn't supposed to accept gifts, but he insisted and in the end she's just left it in her locker. Ironically, it made her feel all the more comfortable and confident to have it there, to have it and to actively make the choice, every time she opened her locker, not to open it and drink it. Thinking about it like this made it sound so stupid and risky, but to her it made a lot of sense. She had completely forgotten it was there, she'd taken it out for Arizona one night, while discussing Herman's tumour they digressed and started sharing all those moments they had seen each other around Hopkins and talked for hours. After that, months ago, it had just sat there untouched, if she had to guess it was buried in a bunch of stuff that was just there as forgotten as the bottle.

Amelia felt a smile form on her face, she should get mad at Derek for jumping at the worst conclusion possible right away, without even talking to her. Instead, she was amused at the whole thing, she wanted to reassure him, short of telling him about her baby, she was ready to say anything to make sure he'd sleep well tonight. Unfortunately, he beat her to it.

"You just don't get it, do you?" his voice was higher than before and higher for normal conversation, even an angry one, she was sure it could be heard perfectly well from Owen's office. He was turning red in the face and the vein on his forehead looked like it was about to burst. "You can't keep pushing people away. You're done, it's just me and I won't let you hurt my family, Amy, I won't let you ruin them too-"

The smile on her face faded as the words left his mouth. He wasn't scolding her, he wasn't being the condescending older brother, he was attacking her and kicking her out and yelling at her in the hospital, there for anyone to hear. Amelia tried to stop him, but he just kept going. His voice was now lower, but so harsh it felt like a knife cutting through her.

"-you're a surgeon. You have responsibilities, you're a grown up, for once in your life act like it, because you don't have any more chances." He shook his head vehemently. He was so angry, so angry he couldn't even look at her. "You should be thinking about your career and starting a family, but you ran from your engagement because you couldn't handle that, let alone having children." If he'd looked up he would have seen the tears streaming down her face. She was just standing in front of him, bawling her eyes out, frozen in space. "And this job – you have this job thanks to me, there is no way you'd be here on your own, so try not to waste it, because an opportunity like this won't come again. If you weren't my sister you wouldn't be here, heading an entire department not even five years out of your residency."

Amelia was in a daze. Her brother was telling her all those things and she was willing herself so hard to believe were lies that she didn't even know what to believe anymore. He was deliberately hurting her and he was doing it out in public and judging from the look in his eyes this had not been his intention, but that didn't make it any less painful right now. She felt a tug at her chest when he mentioned James and children and wanted to scream at him that he didn't know a thing about that, but then she would actually have to explain and that was the last thing she wanted right now. So she just stood there taking it all in, she was good at that, letting the pain wash over. Derek was the one supposed to love her and protect her and he was hurting her so much she was literally frozen right in front of him. Thankfully, she had stopped listening and she didn't notice when he stopped talking.

Richard had stepped in front of Amelia, telling Derek calmly that this wasn't the place for this and, whatever this was, for today it was over. When Derek insisted, at first, he took out his chief voice, standing a few inches taller than him, and that seemed to be enough for him to toss Amelia's jacket at him and, without looking at her, headed out to meet Meredith and the kids. Immediately, he turned to Amelia not knowing what to say or what to do. She was staring up at him with big, blue, watery eyes and for a moment she didn't look like one of his colleagues, she looked like a little child, scared and hurt. He knew first hand the kind of vulnerability that comes with a disease like addiction and he knew Derek well enough to know about their father and he had heard rumours about Amelia's past, while rumours are just that and not a reliable source of information there is always a little bit of truth in them. He sighed internally, he was all ready to leave and have a really nice dinner and then call Catherine. Richard wrapped an arm around Amelia's shoulders, slowly and cautiously, ready to pull away at her smallest indication. Contrary to his expectations she let him and she turned her head into his shoulder, hiding the tears from all the people that had gathered around.

"Don't you all have anything else to do?" all the crowd that had formed around dissolved just as quickly as it had come, leaving their surroundings slowly easing back in the motion of the comings and goings of everyone around. He rubbed her shoulder with his thumb, trying to get her attention again. "Do you want to go sit down?"

Amelia just nodded and let him walk with her to the attending's lounge, sitting down on the sofa. Her head fell in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees and she just sat there for a good few minutes without moving an inch. He could tell from her irregular breathing that she was trying incredibly hard to pull herself together.

"Amelia," he called her, he didn't care if she cried, he needed to make sure she was okay. What Derek had just done was horrible, but in a way completely understandable. He'd hated him, hated him with a passion when he'd taken over as interim chief, only afterward he'd been able that in a misguided way his intentions had been – yes, selfish – but with the ultimate goal of making him better and preserving his licence to practise medicine. "Can you look at me, please?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned around to face him. They looked into each other's eyes and felt a kind of kinship that was so familiar and comforting, the unwavering support in Richard's eyes made her feel protected enough to open up. "I didn't drink." She said, careful to observe his reaction to see if she could trust him. "I haven't had a drop in years, I've been sober for so long." She saw the understanding look on his face, it was different from the usual look of understanding that other people had, even the ones who tried really hard, it was never quite the same. It reminded her of the way Charlotte used to look at her when she got out of rehab. Amelia turned back to stare down at her hands on her knees. "Why doesn't he trust me? I mean, it's not like he doesn't have reasons not to, but keeping me here, letting me babysit, giving me his job – I just thought he had finally started to see me as the person I am now and not his five year old sister."

"I'm sorry." He put his hand on her knee. "You know he didn't mean that, do you?" Amelia gave him a look that bordered sceptic right into scornful. "He is scared and he's angry, but he is not angry at you. He is angry at himself. I know it's hard for you to believe that, but he is scared for you and he doesn't want to be and having you here makes him feel a lot better, but the feeling never really goes away. It's not about trust, it's about how little control he has over you and your addiction."

Amelia shook her head, she hated to have to admit it, but he was making a lot of sense right now, so much sense she was considering calling Meredith tomorrow. Derek attacked her, told her things that were not justifiable even if she was actually doing drugs again. "He's always seen me as a failure, nothing I can do to change that, but he had no right to say any of those things and not in front of all those strangers."

"You're right." He had no idea what things were those, he'd heard the whole thing, but it was still a mystery to him. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you your brother gets mean when he's angry, says a lot of things that he knows will hurt you. What I'm saying is, he only does that because he's scared, he doesn't mean them-"

"Don't I get to be scared? Don't I get to – why can't he just cut me some slack for once?" she wiped her tears hastily and pulled the sleeves of her sweater up her wrists, up until her hands were balled in the dark, soft material. "I graduated first of my class at Harvard. Went to Johns Hopkins. I was the best at what I did, but I never got any credit, from him or my mother, I am the fifth doctor in the family, by the time I graduated, she was bored of seeing the ceremony. I felt like I finally had my life all together, kind of, but… he doesn't get to be scared. He doesn't get to be mean."

Richard grabbed her hands, forcing her to look up at him. "This is probably just exhaustion talking. Give him a few days, he'll come around. He will apologise and you will let him, alright?"

Amelia nodded, she wasn't too crazy about this plan, she'd like nothing more than to just scream back at him and hide somewhere forever and – no, she couldn't do that. She couldn't let herself feel, because if she did all the work she had done in the past few years would be for nothing, she'd be destroying all that she built. Avoidance and denial. "I'm glad you're here, Richard, and I'm endlessly thankful you stepped in, but I'm sure you have somewhere nice to be in even better company, so you should go."

He looked at her for signs that she was trying to ask him the exact opposite – women – but when he came up empty he let go of her hands and stood, guarding her face to look for any signs that her facial expression changed. And then he got it. "Where are you staying now?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're obviously not going back to Derek and Meredith's house, so where are you staying? With Hunt?" he raised his eyebrows like a scolding father with his rebellious teenage daughter.

Amelia looked at him bewildered and somewhat embarrassed. "What? No, why would you even think that?" the look he gave her, though, told her not only that there was no reason to play dumb, but that he didn't care who she was sleeping with, rather if she had a place to stay. "No, I'm not staying with him. I'll just figure something out." She couldn't tell him she had been sleeping all week at the hospital anyway.

"Well, I have a room." he stared at her and she knew exactly what he was doing, he wasn't offering her the room, nor telling her she should go with him. Damn, he was good. Either that or he knew exactly the way she was feeling right now and was supporting her in the way she needed instead of offering to go to a meeting.

Amelia smiled at him. He made her feel protected and safe and comfortable, all feelings she kept her distance from, all it took was to let herself go and rely on other people and she'd be back to rehab in a second. She couldn't let her guard down. "Thank you, but I can't. Really, I'll find a hotel or something."

"No, you won't." she turned, she wasn't in the mood to keep playing this game of back and forth until one of them caved. The warm smile on his face made all the arguing she had in her dissolve in a matter of seconds. "You can't keep sleeping here, take it from someone wo has done it for longer that is acceptable. Just tonight. Do it for me."

Amelia tilted her head pondering her options. Going home with Richard sounded so tempting, but all the while it meant she had someone checking up on her all the time. She appreciated the thought and effort and the fatherly vibe she got off him, but she'd much prefer to spend the night here at the hospital, either getting herself in surgery or sleeping or solving medical mysteries, anything but human contact.

"Come on, let's go." He said and motioned for her to stand and handed her the jacket. "I can't promise dinner, but the bed's made."

Amelia smiled and felt tears form in her eyes when he helped her put the jacket on. "You don't have to do this, you know. I know I'm a mess, but I don't have to be your mess."

He shook his head and headed out of the room, Amelia following close behind. "I want to, trust me, I wouldn't otherwise. There are many people that will feel better knowing you're with me and not living in an on call room. I can understand you might want privacy and you might want everyone off your back, but they worry because they care, all of them."

"Will you introduce me someday, to all these people?" Amelia joked sadly, she had Meredith and Derek and maybe Owen still cared even after what she did, but there was no one else here that would lose any sleep not knowing where she was at night. He just chuckled and led her outside.

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_p.s. I have reopened my ask box on tumblr (indigowaterbears) for prompts and, even if I already have more than I will ever write, if you have anything you want to send me, or perhaps if you want to badger me into updating, just head over there. _

_Let me know what you thin about this :)_


	8. Eight

_This is super late, as always. I've been super busy this week (with horses) and it took away a lot of time and energy. Good news is I know have more time, energy and in an attempt to keep my mind off things last week I wrote four chapters of this, so it's all ready through chapter twelve (the rest needs some thorough editing sessions before it's ready). It's turning out quite well, if I do say so myself. I won't make any promises as far as updates, but you guys just keep the faith._

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There was a second, right after she woke, when she looked around not knowing where she was. She wasn't new to that, she'd slept around enough that she was almost used to that. Sadly, though, it wasn't until too late that she realised it was actually a good thing. As soon as her brain kicked in and all the memories of yesterday flew in she felt her stomach sink. Amelia remembered Richard's guest bedroom, she remembered what Derek had said and she felt like crying, again. She didn't want to and she had firmly been convinced she was over it, she was over Derek's angry words, it wasn't the first time she had been on the receiving end of them and, while in the past he might have said a lot of hurtful true things, yesterday's attack was uncalled for. She closed her eyes and wished it was another time entirely, a time when the possibility that she had got drunk and gone home with a random stranger was the most plausible option in this situation. Her chest was heaving and her lower lip trembled, realising it would mean Ryan was alive, they still had to meet and fall in love and talk about marriage and babies and maybe this time her baby would have a brain and maybe – maybe they wouldn't have met at all. Focusing on her breathing and on trying to calm down enough to leave the room and worry Richard more than he already was, she checked her reflection on the little mirror on the dresser, wiping her eyes and hoping her face didn't look as bad she felt.

After getting dressed and ready for work she left the room, putting on a fake smile even though she knew it wouldn't fool anyone, especially him. When she walked into the kitchen, though, he was on the phone and she instantly felt like was invading his privacy. The voice inside her head told her she was already invading his privacy enough and that she could at least make breakfast. When he saw her he waved, but didn't move, in fact he just said goodbye and hung up. "That was Meredith."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. She couldn't decipher his tone, but by the way he kept addressing her in such a paternal way, she immediately thought the worst. "Am I being kicked out?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, absolutely not. She just checked in."

"Great." Amelia huffed. One more person to add to the list of people who made it their hobby to keep an eye on her. She needed to explain and to talk to Derek, she was mad and he probably was right now as well, but she also knew that her addiction reopened some pretty deep scars whenever it came up between them. "Why didn't she call me, then?"

Richard tilted his head. He always had a thing for the underdog, but with Amelia he felt a kinship that was theirs only. The perks of being both addicts, if it could even be called that. "She didn't think you'd pick up," Amelia was about to protest, but he held a finger in front of her, shutting her up. "She's not mad, she's confused and she wanted to make sure you were okay."

Amelia nodded, her relationship with Meredith was developing in all sorts of curious ways and, for some reason, she couldn't quite figure her sister in law out. In a way she felt like she understood her, understood beyond the technicalities of addiction and all the things she had studied, but she just couldn't quite grasp what she thought and how she felt and it was frustrating to no end. While she was infinitely glad for Richard's presence and support, it wasn't what she wanted or what she needed. It wasn't about taking him for granted, but he understood so well and knew exactly what to do all the time with her because he'd been there, he had felt it all on his skin, what Amelia wanted was Derek to get it and to support her like that. It was wishful thinking and she knew he never would, but there were a lot of feelings inside of her she still, after so many years, had no control over. "I didn't drink."

He turned to face her, his understanding eyes tinged with a hint of fear and worry. It wasn't what she'd said, but the way she's said it. He was positive she hadn't been drinking, yet her voice told him there was a but following up that statement and he couldn't see a way whatever would follow would be good.

"I didn't drink, but I kept the bottle." Amelia was chewing the inside of her cheek, trying to decide if she should tell him and how much. At this point there weren't that many people left even interested to listen to her – what do you know, maybe Derek had been right after all. "It made me feel better having it there. It wasn't because I had it handy if I suddenly caved and let myself drink, it was how every time I saw it I felt like I was choosing not to drink. I mean, I have all that AA and NA stuff memorised and burnt into my brain forever and I could repeat it endlessly like a mantra, but seeing that bottle, walking past the hospital pharmacy… it makes me feel better, it makes me feel in control. It is my choice not to give into that, not the fact that I shouldn't or that I can't get my hands on… anything." She let that sink in and looked up at him, half expecting his face to morph into full blown worry and drag her to a meeting. Instead, to her utter and complete surprise, he smiled warmly at her. "Do you think that's good?"

He just smiled at her. "I think it's very good. Everyone's different, everyone deals with their problems in their own way and some times it's hard to understand . I would never trust myself to have access to something like that, I have gone through the steps and I've been sober for years, but I don't think I'll ever trust myself enough. You're different, stronger maybe, but different."

Catching the not so subtle suggestion that Derek had a hard time understanding her and, no matter how hard he tried, there was a good chance he never would. "It's not strength that's keeping me from drinking or getting high." She sighed, some days she'd give anything to have a boring life, maybe be a stay at home mom, someone who's biggest worry is to make the house look pretty and have a nicer garden than the neighbours. There was a good chance she'd end up pulling her hair out ten minutes into it, but the possibility of a life like that, without the pain and memories and responsibilities sounded so attractive at times like the present. "After I got sober I went through a pretty rough time."

"Your boyfriend died."

"Fiancé." She corrected without looking at him, she had no idea how he knew, but she wasn't going to enquire about that, not now. Especially she was not going to add to the list of reasons why her life was so screwed up, not in his eyes. "That kind of pain was… what I managed to extinguish with drugs was nothing compared to what I had to go through after I got off the drugs. I'm terrified at the mere thought that one day I might relapse, because I don't ever want to go through what I did then, I don't think I can."

He nodded. "Does Derek know about this?"

Amelia shrugged. She never uttered a work to him about it, she could never imagine talking to him about any of this. She knew he and Addison had spoken a few times over the phone and, while she couldn't be sure what had been said between the two, she was sure he got the gist of it. "Some of it."

"Don't you think that maybe it would help him, knowing what you went through, knowing how you are dealing with it?"

Amelia snorted in a very un-lady like way, not that she cared about being lady like in any other way. "What it would help him with is having more crap to throw at me whenever he is angry or, alternatively, make his 'I told you so' speech even more annoying."

Richard inhaled slowly, his patience was being tries today. He certainly hadn't missed out on this whole sibling rivalry, even Meredith was an only child and more manageable from that point of view. He knew Derek loved his sisters, every single one, but out of the ones he'd met and seen interact with him he could tell he had a soft spot for her. What they had gone through together must be such a strong bond, he could never understand it, but most of the time it seemed to drive them away from each other. He wished he had a magic wand and could fix it right this moment, fix her, it made him incredibly sad to see this brilliant vibrant woman weighed down by all the traumas and losses in her life. "Maybe. But you're both adults now, you don't need his permission to do anything with your life and if you told him everything he may be able to support you better. You know Meredith is able to look past a lot more things than him because the two of you are more similar in some ways."

She sighed. It seemed she was about to tell him he was right and she was being a child, something she was quite sure was the entire truth, but it still bugged her endlessly. "I told Meredith. Not everything, but most of it. That's why she understands." He gave her a pointed look, clearly saying without the need for words that she was being stubborn just for the sake of it, to get over it and try to be a grown up, even if it meant telling her brother things she'd rather keep to herself. "Alright, alright. I will talk to him. Not now, though, I'm still mad and he needs to apologise before I can consider even just talking to him."

Richard nodded, he better not push it anymore than this. Amelia Shepherd was trying him more than he'd like to admit, he had no idea how her own mother did it, if anything he'd like to meet her and congratulate her for the sea container of patience she must carry around at all times. But he liked her, he liked Amelia, he'd bonded more with her than with his real daughter. Maybe it was because Amelia _wasn't_ his real daughter and the stakes weren't so high, but he still he felt incredibly protective of her. "Fine. And you're taking the day off."

"No way."

"Yes way, and you're going to do whatever you want and later you're going to a meeting with me."

Amelia wrinkled her nose. She did not like to micromanaged like this, he was warm and fatherly and she loved that kind of attention, but it still felt like he was implying she needed looking after, something that, while it might be partially true, annoyed her to no end. He might have a point, though. After what happened with Owen and now Derek maybe she just needed to spend the day watching tv or doing laundry or reading a book. "You can tell the chief for me, then."

He frowned, for a second he missed the connection and, when he fleetingly thought of the words about to leave his mouth, he suddenly got it. it wasn't about talking to the chief. She didn't want to talk to Owen, luckily he stopped himself before asking anything, he was a grown man, more than grown and he wanted to keep all that teenage drama that this hospital seemed to attract as far out of his life as he could, it just made him feel like a teacher in high school. "No, I won't, because I have a surgery in an hour and you are an adult, you can call in yourself."

"Please?" she tried, fully accepting how hypocritical of her it was to insist not to talk to Owen, while demanding to be treated more as a responsible and mature adult person. Amelia whipped out her puppy dog eyes, trying everything she could think of to convince him, she usually didn't have to try so hard with men, but obviously their relationship was different than the one she had with most men. She huffed, it was not working. "I'll call."

Meredith walked up to Owen on the catwalk. She wasn't entirely sure that this was a good idea, but after the last twenty five minutes of walking all around the hospital she didn't know what else to do. Derek had been in an awful mood all of last night and this morning and she'd stayed out of his way as much as she could, knowing he had to work it out by himself, but she wanted to talk to Amelia. She was still convinced she was sober, despite Derek insisting she didn't know her sister in law, and she wanted to make sure she was okay. It felt weird, their relationship was evolving in this unexpected way and it kept spinning out of control – according to Derek that was classic Amelia, but Meredith was hell bent on making things better. Ever since her life had taken a turn for the better her focus had turned to making everyone around her better as well, even though it was presumptuous and really not her nature to be a fixer. Yet Amelia was growing on her and she felt protective of her, like a little sister and in the past few weeks she'd been having quite a rough time, partly because of her, but the rest was just more crap that kept piling on and on. "Hey."

Owen stopped walking, facing Meredith. There was something going on with her face and he couldn't make out what that was exactly. "Hey."

She hesitated for a second, obviously there was still part of her that was firmly convinced this was a terrible idea. "Have you by any chance seen Amelia?"

"She took the day off. She should be back tomorrow." He said curtly, avoiding her eyes.

Meredith raised her eyebrows surprised. When she'd called Richard he'd told her she shouldn't worry that he had everything under control, but Amelia skipping work seemed like quite the opposite. "Oh, is she okay?"

Owen cleared his throat uncomfortably. The phone call with Amelia had been a torturous two minutes that were going to ruin his day. Hearing her voice through the phone was always a relief, but as soon as he'd realised she was calling the chief and not Owen, his heart sank in a little more. He knew they were over and, while it was hard to accept, he was trying to move one, not just move out of the continent, but move on from her, just like Callie had suggested. "She took a personal day."

Meredith sighed, the tone of his voice told her she wouldn't be getting any more information from him and, more to the point, he might not have any more information to give. The more she looked at him, the more she realised playing matchmaker with him and Amelia, something she had no idea how to even begin with, was going to be hard. So hard. If it wasn't for the guilt of feeling like it was her fault they split up, she'd just give up before even trying. She nodded and walked away, towards her patient's room, she was drowning in work and this thing with Derek and Amelia was distracting her more than she could afford. Meredith felt frustration tightening the muscles of her forearms and realised her hands were so tense they looked fake, like mannequin ones. She didn't even know what happened. All she knew was Derek had apparently found a bottle and then confronted Amelia about it and then he'd come to the car with a look on his face that made her rethink even asking what he wanted for dinner, she could handle an angry Derek. They'd had their fair share of fights over the years, but she really wasn't in the mood to, especially when this was a version she never had the pleasure – or not – to deal with.

So, really, it felt like someone out there had been listening to her inner monologue because when she was paged to the ER and got there she realised her patient was also Derek's patient. Meredith walked up to him and noticed the patient's head was almost completely open, right there in a trauma room, the skull was cracked and she could see the bleeding, pulsating brain matter coming out. When she walked closer she also saw the cut on this man's abdomen, it wasn't bleeding, but looked badly infected. It was swollen and the margins were a yellowish colour. Taking a peek at the monitors she saw how high his temperature was. He was septic and the skull fracture – the open skull wasn't promising. "What happened?"

Derek narrowed his eyes, he was still angry. Not at her, Meredith knew that, but still so angry. "Drunk driver. Driver died at the scene and I doubt we can do much more for him here. Damn it." he tossed the clamp he was holding in a nearby tray. "I hate this day." He muttered then, through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, are you done there? I mean the wound here looks salvageable, but I don't want to put too much strain on his body if you want to do brain surgery." Meredith reasoned. There was no way this man would ever make it out of surgery, but given Derek's mood and his predilection for lost causes one could never know. "You want to take him up?"

Derek gave her a defeated look. He knew he wasn't going to make it off the table alive, even if he did manage to fix the bleeding and major skull fracture. As doctors they should try anything, but this seemed like too much. "It's not fair."

Meredith shook her head. "No, it's not." They walked out of the trauma room and out of the door for a second, letting the fresh air clear their minds. "Derek." She asked tentatively, but he turned to her, his anger gone completely from his face. There was a hint of disappointment, sure, but the anger was tamed, for now. "Is this a bad time to ask about Amelia?"

He rolled his eyes so fast they might have spun out of their orbs. "Really, Meredith? We need to talk about my sister's drinking problem after I just called time of death on a drunk driver's victim? Really?"

Meredith arched an eyebrow. When she'd talked to Richard this morning she'd asked clearly if she needed to be worried and he'd said no, fully aware of the implications of the question and she trusted him. "Are you sure she'd drinking?" he turned to her, his head shaking in disbelief. "I know I don't know anything about your life and childhood and whatever, but Derek-" her hand gently rested on his shoulder, fingers rubbing through his scrubs reassuringly. "I've been around her long enough to be pretty sure she'd not. We're doctors we notice those things."

"Like you noticed when Richard was drinking?"

"Isn't that a little insensitive?" Meredith had not realised her voice was raising higher than the acceptable workplace argument level. "Wait, because that's actually a really good point. You made him get help, you made sure he would have still his medical license and a job when he got better and you were supportive of him, all the way through. Your sister has been sober for years and she's changed so much compared to what you've told me of her, yet you give her no credit. None at all. Instead of being supportive you push her around and punish her at every chance you get."

Derek was bewildered at his wife's response. He had no idea what happened between her and Amelia, but he was sure something had, something he was missing completely. "Meredith you have no idea what happened with Amy, so for the last time, stay out of it."

"She's my family too Derek!"

"Oh, come on. Why are you even defending her?" he spat, he wasn't angry at Meredith, slightly irritated and just a little betrayed at his wife taking his sister's side when she didn't even know what happened.

Meredith shook her head, she was frustrated and if she kept on talking she might say something it wasn't her place to say. If only Amelia decided to grow up and talk to him, tell him the whole truth, maybe he'd understand better. She'd grown up as a single child, she didn't get the sibling rivalry, it seemed however that it turned them back into bickering children at every chance. "Call her. Actually, call Richard, I don't know what happened between the two of you, but obviously she won't answer if you call, so. Call. Richard." Before Derek could say another thing she was walking back inside, too far away to say anything that wouldn't have been overheard by the entire hospital.

As the events of the previous night replayed in his head, Derek was able to shed a bit more light on what happened. Meredith was right, Amelia wasn't the Amelia he remembered. Not the Amelia that slept with Mark Sloan and strangely not the Amelia who'd brought him a hopeless surgery a couple of months out of rehab. She was different in a way that he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It drove him mad not to be able to figure it all out, all her life she'd always been a mystery to him and she'd always been the opposite of what he'd wanted her to be. Derek had been worried sick when she'd chosen to get into surgery and neurosurgery out of all. It was consuming and hard and stressful and that was the kind of atmosphere where an addict could find all the right reasons to relapse. Not to mention how she had narcotics and prescription pads on hand all the time. He felt so protective of her, always had, even when their father was alive. When he died – Derek realised – something changed, he wasn't Amelia's brother anymore he'd become sort of a surrogate father to her. The age difference was enough that when she started having issues he could provide that kind of support, only he didn't. He'd tried to ignore it, he had. When she got sick the first time he was deeply disappointed in her and he let her know every chance he got.

Addison had always had a soft spot for Amelia and now Meredith was developing that too. He wondered what it was that made people like Amelia so much. She was brilliant and driven and funny, definitely funnier than him to be around, but he never really got it. Derek knew at first Meredith had been hesitant to let Amelia in fully, she didn't trust her, but in time that got better – either out of necessity or genuine liking he didn't know. This was different. Ever since he'd come back from his last trip to DC he'd got the vibe that something had changed. He was worried, she could tell him a million time how okay she was and he'd never fully believe that. Then that thing with Owen had set off all the possible alarms in his big brother head. Now Meredith was acting like… like she used to with Lexie. He should have been happy, he was happy, but he didn't get it. It was almost as if they shared a special bond and he wasn't a part of that. Meredith used to have that with Cristina and, while he hadn't always accepted it, he didn't really care all that much, but this was his little sister. He did care. He cared so much it hurt.

When he walked into the house that night he saw immediately that Meredith was still mad, smoke coming out of her ears kind of mad. She was standing behind the counter loading the dishwasher and she was fuming. He hung his head and set his things down carefully, as not to wake the kids. "I called Richard, like you asked." She looked up, but said nothing, her eyes were still seething. "He said Amy is staying with him for a little while. He tore me a new one. Apparently, she is sober. The bottle was a gift."

Meredith felt a smug smile forming, she had been right in her assessment. She had been right in trusting Amelia. Admittedly, she'd had doubts about that, because, even if she'd never tell him, Derek was right he didn't know her whole story. Something Meredith could say right back, but that would mean breaking Amelia's trust and, more to the point, it wouldn't make either feel any better. She just gave him a look, an I told you so mixed with I'm mad at you look that made him keep talking.

"I snapped." He admitted looking down, it was abundantly clear he was ashamed of the way he'd lost his temper, but she knew him and he wasn't aggressive or a hot head, not without reason, even if that reason was only in his head. "Meredith I remember when she was born. I was so excited. I had been the baby of the family for years, a lot of years, and while I wasn't old enough to realise what my sisters meant when they called her an 'oops baby' I was so beyond excited. I was always with her. I wanted to teach her to read and write, to ride a bike, to swim. The two of us were always together, mostly because when Liz got her driver's license we were the only two left."

He sighed and walked to one of the stools at the counter, sitting down heavily, as if he could somehow rest his emotional weight there, like a stray limb or a second head. "Then one day we were in out father's store. We spent a lot of time there. Two men came in and when they left my father was dead on the ground. I was shocked, in shock, I knew what just happened, but she didn't. Amy kept crying and calling our dad and she was inconsolable. All I kept thinking while I waited for someone to come was how she was going to grow up without a father. I was old enough to have memories, but she wasn't. She was going to forget him, but she was never going to forget seeing him dead on the ground, that was going to be her last memory of him. It hurt, knowing that, it just hurt." He took a moment to clear his throat, feeling a lump form right there, all the things he wanted to say, but couldn't quite get out.

"Then my sisters disappeared, as I told you, they don't really know her, to them she's always been a reminder of that. Amy became rebellious and out of control and got in trouble a lot. My mother worried, but I think she knew it was beyond anything she could do. When she started high school it got worse. She cut class, she was always hanging out with older boys and I warned her, but she didn't listen. The more I tried to talk to her, the more she pulled away."

Meredith sat on the stool in front of him. She could see the pain flashing in her husband's eyes as he spoke. She knew about their father and she knew about how they grew up, but seeing Derek and Amelia together, if it wasn't for the obvious resemblance, she would have never pegged them for brother and sister. They were so similar in some ways and the complete opposite in others. "That's when she started using?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "One of her idiot boyfriends gave her something and she got addicted." He took Meredith's hand in his, stroking her knuckles methodically, it was soothing. Not just having Meredith right there, but telling her these things. "We didn't know. Not at first. Actually, she looked better at first. Finally getting good grades and not going out anymore with dubious individuals. Only we didn't know she snuck out at night and made money doing the assignments for everyone in her class to get drugs. She spent entire nights out, doing… I don't even want to imagine what. I was barely home myself and mom didn't see it, she thought it was a phase, that it would pass. The day she got her driver's license she was so happy, over the moon. So I let her have my Mustang for the day and I told her to go out and celebrate."

She waited for him to go on. She could see his internal struggle and she knew how the story went on. He'd told her before, he'd told her when she'd first met Amelia. Now that she knew her well that same story took another meaning entirely. Now that she knew her it was hard to imagine what happened, back then she'd felt how relatively fresh the scar from this still was, but it was the past and she'd left it there. "It's okay Derek."

He turned to look at her hand on his shoulder, he hadn't seen her putting it there. He was so focused on what he was saying he'd retreated into his own little world for a while. "I came home that night. Mom was out of town, so I promised to be home with Amy. My gut was telling me to keep an eye on her, but I didn't want to be her parent, I couldn't be the one to put limits in her life, I wanted her to come to me when she was in trouble, when she needed me. I wanted to be that person for her. So I let her have my car and she had my permission to stay out till eleven." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I came home about half an hour early and she wasn't there. Ten minutes later I hear the car pull up, but no one comes in. So I go outside to find my car – destroyed – and Amy unconscious in the driver's seat. She was white as a ghost and she wasn't moving. All the medical training I had so far disappeared, I couldn't think, Meredith. I panicked. Then I put two fingers on her neck and her heart wasn't beating.

"I took her in, I did CPR, I didn't know what happened and when the paramedics came they said it looked like an overdose." He looked down, he couldn't tell her this things, not when he kept picturing Zola instead of Amelia. "My world imploded. Crumpled to pieces. She was dead. For three minutes she was dead. I remember my arms cramping so bad and I think I was screaming at her. I was so angry with her, I was so disappointed, I mean I got it, I got how she felt. She was mad at the entire world, she was just beginning to realise why, and instead of fighting she caved. I loved her so much it hurt and she kept… doing these things."

Meredith knew digging any deeper into this would only make things worse. This was one of Derek's issues, one of the biggest ones and for a while a few years ago, she'd hated Amelia for it. She was well aware addiction was a disease and Amelia was sick, it would always be out of Amelia's control, just like her mother couldn't have done anything about her Alzheimer's, yet she hated them both for a long time anyway. No matter how aware she was of the irrationality of that. "What happened next?"

He nodded, thankful for the change. "She went to rehab. Finished high school early and got into college. Her life was on track. More than on track Mer, she managed to graduate early and got into Harvard. It was easy to forget that she was the same Amy I revived after an overdose." He smiled, in a way reflecting the pride he had indeed felt when his sister got into one of the best schools in the country, somewhere he hadn't even managed. Still, she could see a shade in his eyes, the one she saw whenever he talked about Amelia. "She visited for a while, at first. Her and Addison had been inseparable after she got clean. Then she was busy and so was I and neither one of us never made the effort to really keep in touch."

Meredith frowned. This wasn't exactly what he'd told her a few nights ago. "Didn't you say _you_ pulled away, just like your sisters, wasn't it you Derek?"

Derek chuckled and shook his head ashamedly. "She did come to visit, but she came to see Addie, she'd call to see if I was home and she'd avoid me. I was hard on her. I tried to be supportive, but I couldn't. Every time I saw her I kept seeing the girl I found that night. I blamed her for everything that happened, when the one to blame was I. When she stopped visiting, I never called. Addie called at first, but after a while we just lost touch. My sisters were there when she came out of rehab and are frequent attendees of my Mother's Christmas parties, but Amelia wouldn't have been caught dead at one of those. They are just not really family. I mean, they are, obviously, just not like – like me." He smiled, he'd just finished saying how he'd done everything wrong with her and now he was supposed to be her family. "I failed her in the worst way possible and I keep making the same mistakes all over again. When I saw that bottle it was like my brain was clouded and all I could see was sixteen year old Amy dead in my car, so I yelled at her and I said hurtful things and I couldn't control it."

Meredith smiled back. She wanted to grab both Amelia and Derek's heads and bump their heads together, at least there was the hope of knocking some sense into both without wasting valuable energy. If they both told each other what they told her… she knew it wasn't easy, but for everyone's sake – primarily hers – they seriously needed to make that effort. "You didn't fail her. You were a jerk. You've been a jerk to me enough that I know you wouldn't do that unless you really loved her. But Derek, you didn't fail."

"Meredith I love that you're trying, but I'm missing how-"

"You wanted to be the person she'd run to whenever she had a problem? You are. It might have taken you ten years longer than you wanted, but you are that person to her. Not right now, maybe, she's pissed and rightfully so, but you are. When her engagement went downhill, or whatever happened there, she came here, to you. You are her family now, well, we are." Meredith tightened her hold on his hand, smiling when the tense muscles in his face distended a little.

He just looked at her. He loved this woman so much he'd be lost without her. Loving Meredith was no easier than loving Amelia, in that sense she'd reminded him of his sisters many more times than he'd ever admit. Maybe that was part of the attraction. The brokenness beneath the surface, the scars she had from life, scars that most people never get. He was infinitely glad the two of them were bonding, he felt a lot better knowing he wasn't the only one here looking out for Amelia and knowing Richard took her in, was a relief. Derek couldn't help the dread he'd felt when he'd opened her locker and knew that he couldn't help the fears it dug up, also he needed to apologise. Soon. Not now, though, right now his wife was walking towards their bedroom sneaking glances as she walked. Right now, he was busy.


	9. Nine

_Late as per, but I'm pretty sure nobody had any illusions about me updating in a reasonable time anymore. I could apologise, but then again it's not like I do it on purpose. I had an awesome idea today on the bus (endless source of inspiration) and that means I'm going to be working full time on this story and on Vanished (the idea extended to that too). It's really exciting and I was a little stuck with these two for a series of reason that I'm going to keep to myself, I don't want to spoil anything. Just know it sounds really awesome and it will allow me to focus a little better. So here's this, no promises on the next update even though it's already saved up ready to be posted. Let me know what you think about this and enjoy._

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Meredith was staring. She was well aware of that, she'd done it frequently enough in the past that staring at someone in the cafeteria was not something she took issue in. Only she was sitting alone today, no Cristina, no Alex, not even April or Jackson. It was just plain weird like this. Although, it wasn't just staring with the intention of gossiping, or the possibility of gossiping, again, she was alone, so it would have gotten her only a free ticket to the loony bin if she started talking and giggling and ewing all by herself. This was research for her secret project. While Derek and Amelia also had to sort out their issues, she knew very well there was nothing she could do for them, maybe give a little push, but they needed time first and then they might even make it themselves. On the other, hand Owen and Amelia didn't need a mere push, they needed to be locked in a room together for hours, but considering what she'd managed to gather from the both of them, verbally and reading body language, that was not enough either, in fact, doing that now could be potentially explosive. She needed to lay ground work first and then she could do that.

So, she stared, absorbing all the information she could from afar. Owen was sitting alone, looking at a tablet, sporadically taking a bite from the sandwich in his hand. The bags under his eyes were bigger every day that passed and the gloomy look in his eyes was beginning to resemble the one he'd been sporting when he and Cristina started having issues. Cristina had called a few days ago and asked how Owen was doing, silently reminding Meredith she'd asked her to make sure he'd be okay and Meredith had then realised she was doing a crap job. After all Cristina had never asked to make sure he'd stay single and wait for her, possibly forever. She wanted him to move on, she was moving on and Meredith had made a mess of it all – with the best intentions, but still a giant mess.

"You're ready to change your husband already?"

Meredith's head whipped around fast, swallowing the sandwich in her mouth whole and feeling it go all the way down to her stomach. Her shoulders relaxed when she saw Callie. Exactly who she needed. "What? No."

"Really?" she raised her eyebrows mockingly. "I heard he was a McAss again a few days ago." She turned a bit more serious. "I thought you said he was better?"

Meredith sighed, she hadn't thought this through. Ever since she'd learned about Amelia and Owen splitting because of her big mouth – there seemed to be other reasons, but she still felt guilty – she'd been meaning to mend that, preferably with the help of Callie. She was Owen's friend and the last grown up female in the hospital she could think of to come on board. Yet, she couldn't tell her a lot of things, she'd forgot she couldn't tell her so many things it was going to be incredibly hard to make this work. "He was. It's something else. It wasn't about me for once." She turned to Callie trying to decide whether she should tell her about any of the things that had been going through her mind until a second earlier.

Luckily, she didn't have to decide, because apparently it was written all over her face. "Alright, what is it?" when she frowned, trying to pull an innocently confused look, Callie tilted her head, eyebrows perfectly arched. She wasn't buying into any of that crap. "Spill. Now."

"I did a thing." She blurted out. "Not a bad thing, but it turned out bad and I ruined something and I want to fix it."

Callie snorted loudly. "You sound like every song ever written. I'm going to need you to be more specific here."

Meredith pressed her lips together, both to keep from saying something she couldn't explain and thinking really hard how to go about this. For a second her brain cowardly thought about the possibility of getting Derek to help her with this instead, it would make the explanation process a lot easier, but then again he'd be helping her help Owen sleep with Amelia. Not directly, but that was indeed part of the goal. She wasn't sure he'd be on board with that, he did want Amelia – and Owen – to be happy, either separately or together, but be an active part of the process was maybe too much to ask. "I'm sort of responsible for someone breaking up." Callie nodded, urging her to expand on that. "And I feel bad and I want to fix them. Get them back together."

"Okay." Callie said, obviously thinking. "No, wait, that's not okay. Why would you break two people up? More importantly who? Is it someone I know? Ooh, do they work here? Of course they do, all the people we know work here-"

"Callie. Callie!" Meredith interrupted her rambling, still throwing glances Owen's way from time to time. "I didn't mean to break them up. I didn't think they would. I thought they were all wrong for each other, but _I_ was wrong."

Callie sat pondering. It wasn't like Meredith to do these things. She was usually very understand and tolerant of other people and if something bothered her she'd usually get someone else to do her dirty work. "So, let me get this straight. There were two people dating and you broke them up."

"No." Meredith shook her head fervently. "Yes. But it wasn't like that. I merely suggested something and it seems to have led to them breaking up."

Callie nodded, this sounded a lot more realistic, yet her curiosity was growing each passing second. "Are you sure it wasn't something else that happened? I mean, what could you possibly _suggest_ that would end up with someone breaking up?"

She sighed. How could she explain without saying anything. Or maybe she should. Or not. After all Owen and Amelia were officially not together anymore and according to the hospital talk they never had been, so why ruin that perfect record. "She, uh, I wasn't sure she would be a right fit for him. I asked to make sure she knew what she was doing, because as far as I knew he wasn't her type and I thought I was looking out for him." She started carefully, frowning at every word, hoping either Callie would put names to those pronouns or just understand the story anyway. "It turns out I was wrong and she's actually really good for him, but by that time she had already told him off. According to her it's better off like this, even though there are both pining and looking like kicked puppies all the time. And I feel guilty and I want to fix it so I can feel better."

Callie frowned pensively. This sounded so familiar. "You do know if you told me who these two people are, because I know you're not talking about you and Derek in the third person, it would make things a lot easier. Like a lot _lot_."

Meredith grimaced. She knew very well. This was Amelia, though, and she didn't want to be the one babbling about her private life to people that barely knew her around here. Owen, she could drag into this, but she was feeling overly protective of her sister-in-law lately, so she wasn't going to do that, either Callie already knew or her lips were sealed. "I can't." Callie's eyebrow arched sceptically. "Tell me what to do anyway?" she smiled hopelessly.

"Are you really sure nothing else happened?"

"As far as I know." Meredith shrugged her shoulders. "Look, they both have a pretty rough past and I think I pushed a little too hard and they got scared. I mean every time I asked she just said that it was better this way. That he deserved better."

It was almost like a light bulb lit over Callie's head. She knew who Meredith was talking about, at least half of the couple. She wanted to hit herself over the head, she'd caught Meredith staring at Owen just a few minutes ago and she was more than sure she wasn't in love with him. Not only he was Cristina's ex, but they had never really got on all that well. "Oh my God. It's Owen. You're talking about Owen. You know who Owen's girl is! You have to tell me. I tried to get it out of him, but he was all vague and-"

"I can't." Meredith said so fast she wasn't sure the words were distinguishable. "I can't. Wait, what did Owen tell you?"

"He didn't _say_ anything. I had to drag it out of him." Callie groaned. "He was seeing someone, apparently someone he liked a lot, because he kept going on and on about how he was over it, but it was obvious he was still _so_ hung up on her. Plus, she gave him some crap excuse to break off things and he kept defending her. I just want to wring her neck so much." Owen was in love. She could understand that, but from what he'd told her he was far better off without this woman and now Meredith was trying to play Cupid and get these two back together. Callie felt like she was going to burst with curiosity, she felt like a ticking bomb. To think she worked with her, whoever she was. Looking at Meredith she realised how she was so deeply committed and took a deep breath. "He was really sad. I mean, maybe it's too soon, you know, after Cristina?"

Meredith shook her head. Owen and Cristina had been done with their relationship years before she left. They loved each other and kept going back to each other and ending up together, but it wasn't healthy and surely it wasn't helping either one of them moving on. "No, trust me. They're good for one another. And who are we really to judge?"

"Yeah, you're right about that." She agreed. "Still, it's no use to waste any time on this, Owen's going back to the army." As Meredith's eyes widened impossibly she explained. "He said they are doing some training thingies for recruits and Teddy offered him to go for a tour. He's thinking about it, but really, I think he's going to go."

Meredith couldn't believe this. He couldn't go back, this was the worst idea ever. Not after last time. She'd had a front row seat to his PTSD and she'd seen him struggle, it was years ago and now they were closer, well, close_ish_ enough that Meredith didn't want to see him go through that again. Not for his sake, which meant Amelia's, which meant Derek's, which meant hers. Owen could not go. It was stupid and he could die out there. "But he can't go."

"Maybe it'll do him good." Callie shrugged.

She shook her head in disbelief and, slightly, in anger. He'd really learned nothing from last time. Also, Cristina was going to be so pissed at her for letting this happen. She'd done exactly the opposite of what she'd asked, she'd ruined his new promising relationship and had – indirectly – sent him back to war. Meredith huffed, how could a few words together generate such a reaction was beyond her. "Callie you were there. This is not about Ame-his relationship, it's about him. What if something happens to him? I don't want anyone else to die or leave, people keep dropping dead around here, they leave and it's just... I can't let this happen. He can't go."

"I know, but maybe it's what he needs. After the plane crash and Cristina, he needs a reboot. I think a part of him realises it and that's why he wants to go. He told me himself he's worried about going back for those reasons exactly, but maybe he can't _not_ go." She exhaled, she was worried about Owen, he was good at keeping himself and the hospital together, but it was obvious he wasn't okay. "Oh, maybe that's the solution to your problem. If he went, then he'd get his groove back and so when he comes back he's going to be ready to date again and that's when you set him up."

Meredith smiled sadly, Callie had a point, a really good one at that. She caught a glimpse of Amelia walking in to get lunch and she remembered she was pulling to get them back together now. For the both of them. "_If_ he comes back." She murmured. "I get what you're saying, but this thing, being with someone, might also help him get past that. She wasn't here when the plane crash happened and she's not Cristina. She could be just as good as the army as far as getting his groove back."

"Who is it?" Callie was going in her head through the list of people they knew to try and figure out who this mystery woman was, eliminating slowly all the possible ones. Both their pagers went off simultaneously and, like a good team, they groaned in unison. "Why, why do people get hurt?" Callie wondered out loud while Meredith stuffed the remaining pieces of her sandwich in her mouth and grabbed her apple from her tray.

Callie turned. She was sure Owen could benefit greatly from going back to do what he loved, only Meredith was right as well. He might come back with PTSD again or seriously injured. Or not come back at all. Yet the more she kept looking at him, the more she saw how sad he was, almost depressed kind of sad. Until his pager beeped and he walked right into Amelia Shepherd. She shook her head as she observed the exchange. It was awkward. Too awkward. Callie frowned. They were surgeons, always in a hurry, they bumped into each other all the time and it was fine. Owen's hands had flown right to Amelia's waist, steadying her, disappearing under her lab coat, while Amelia's hands were on his chest and they were standing there like that, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, only it shouldn't be. It looked intimate and it looked intense, the 'I wish you were naked now' kind of intense. It lasted only seconds, but in Callie's brain it was playing out in slow motion. Once they were stable enough to stand on their own two feet, before the hands moved, they looked at each other. They looked into each other's eyes like they were the only ones in the room and – while it probably lasted half a nanosecond – that sparked something she should have realised long ago, at least ten minutes ago. After that, albeit brief, but hot, passionate, super steamy stare down, they pushed away far more rigidly and awkwardly than strictly necessary and went on their separate ways. The _she_ Meredith kept mentioning had to be Amelia. It fit, it fit perfectly. The only ones who had not been here during the plane crash were her and Pierce and she'd just set Pierce up with the radiologist, so it couldn't be her, plus Owen had openly denied when she'd asked that, so it left only Amelia. Derek's little sister. Now that she thought about it, it made all so much sense. The fact that Meredith was so hell bent on fixing them and how she'd been the one to mess them up in the first place. Amelia was her sister-in-law and Owen was her best friend's ex-husband. This was a mess, capital m. The second she turned to confront Meredith about her new discovery however, she found Meredith was not there anymore.

Amelia walked away as fast as she could, that was dangerous. It felt dangerous, like sparks and pure oxygen, it was the recipe for disaster. Her and Owen hadn't been alone in a long time. Ever since she'd taken it upon herself to break them up. They hadn't even been in the same trauma room together, something she'd spent more than the acceptable amount of time debating whether was intentional on his part or merely random. She'd been casually walking by Meredith's table when she'd heard a curious bit of her conversation with Callie. She hadn't been meaning to eavesdrop, but she found putting her leftovers in the trash an activity requiring much longer than usual. When she heard Callie talk about Owen talking about her she'd felt something in her chest. It made her feel better, knowing he cared, knowing he didn't hate her, knowing he could never hate her even when she couldn't let him love her. It was all her fault and she accepted the repercussions fully. It was maddening, though. She didn't want him to love her and suffer because of that, meanwhile she felt less alone when he was around, sneaking glances and looking away with a frown when she turned to him. Her life was just an endless bundle of complicated and she was tired of being mad at the entire universe for that. Speaking of, she was still mad at Derek, that could be a nice way to channel all her anger into something semi constructive.

"Hey Amy."

She closed her eyes, mentally calming herself. Dealing with her brother wasn't what she needed right now, let alone what she wanted. Right now she wanted to be alone, completely alone and Derek was the last person she wanted to see, so she needed to find a way to get rid of him. Fast. "You need something?"

Her harsh, cold tone was enough for him to stand straighter. It wasn't even professional. He'd been expecting her to be mad, he knew she had every right, that night he humiliated her in the lobby he'd crossed a line and he knew exactly how much it hurt her when he did that, more than just anyone. He'd yelled at her and said things that evidently hurt her deeply. Derek had been feeling bad enough in the past week that he wanted to try and make it better and, like Bailey had once suggested, 'I'm sorry' was a great way to start. He'd just wing it from there. "I'm so, so sorry, Amy."

She huffed, not even turning to look at him. "Save it. I don't need it."

He rubbed a and down his face, she was way angrier than he'd anticipated, even considering the time that had passed. Amelia was spitting poison each time she opened her mouth and he was at loss. "Please. I am sorry. I was a jerk and I was out of line and I was wrong."

Amelia just shrugged, she didn't appear to be listening to a word he was saying. In fact, her head was spinning like a planet in a completely different universe from him, her thoughts everywhere but here. The idea to go back down to LA had passed, quite fast, in her mind. She could just go back. Away from Owen and away from Derek. Then all the reasons she'd left in the first place came back to her. Los Angeles was a big city, but definitely not big enough for all the bad memories she'd left there. "What do you want, Derek? You want to finish off listing all the things I failed at? How you're so much better than me? Or were you just going to go over all the mistakes I've ever made, the ones you're aware of, of course-"

"No," he closed his eyes and tried to take her hand, but she shoved his away. "I'm apologising, Amy. I was wrong and I made a mistake. I'm really sorry, I don't know why I keep second guessing you, I-"

Amelia snorted and turned with a snarky smirk on her face. "How about I tell you that, uh? It's because of your damn God complex, Derek. You think you're so much better than everyone else, you're constantly pushing everyone around and you think of yourself first every damn time you open your mouth." She felt a lump in her throat. It was hard. She loved him, he was her big brother, she idolised him. Yet he had never been able to forgive her and, no matter how hard he was trying, he never would. She knew that and she'd made her peace with that, only she thought they were past this. Most of all she never believed he would hurt her like this, she knew he could, but she'd seriously believed they were past it. At least now she knew she was wrong. "You know what the worst thing is? You're right. All those things you said were true and you're making me hate you for it."

Derek felt his stance fell. He had no idea why he always ended up hurting the people he loved most. Amelia, Addison, Meredith. The closer he felt to someone, the more vulnerable they made him feel, the more he'd push them away, hurting them and himself. That's what he'd accused Amelia of and, despite that, Richard had taken her in and Meredith was keeping him in the dog house for that. He kept driving people away and the realisation that one day his children could be at the end of that was frightening at best. "Amy I was wrong. I was. I mean, look at you, you've accomplished what I have in fifteen years in a mere seven. It's not my name that's helped, I know that, your resume speaks for itself."

She sighed. It wasn't on the professional side that she had any doubts about. "Oh, I'm very well aware of that. I meant everything else you said. You were correct, I am an epic failure, congratulations."

Derek looked at her. Straight in her eyes, the exact mirror image of his own. Except she looked heartbroken, so deeply hurt, he realised it couldn't have been what he'd said. Not _just _what he'd said. There was something else and at the moment he was cursing himself in all the languages he wished he'd learned for screwing up their relationship and not being able to comfort her. He knew that look so well. He knew it perfectly. She was holding all the pain inside, letting it accumulate and boil over, all her efforts went to not exploding. It didn't look like she was going such a good job at that and he knew the fault was, at least partly, his. He reached an arm out and put a hand on her shoulder. Tentatively at first, ready to pull away to avoid any – arguably deserved – bodily harm she might decide to inflict on him. His surprise was palpable when she leaned into the touch. His hand closed on her little, bony shoulder, offering as much support as he could, seeing as this was the only acceptable way he could. Derek felt even worse when he saw her eyes tear up and felt her breathing grow irregular under his touch, he was about to say something, but she sniffled and hastily pulled away.

"It's fine. You don't have to worry about me." She looked down at the white floor, trying to keep her composure long enough to be able to walk away, she knew the east stairs were the closest place she could hide in right now. She swallowed thickly and let out a shaky breath before looking up at him again. "I'm not your problem anymore. Consider yourself off the hook."

Derek stared at her retreating form physically unable to move. He knew she was angry at him and that was actively preventing him from being able to be there for her, but he also was positive he was not the one to blame for her anger and sorrow, not entirely, not today.


	10. Ten

_I finally made it. Without wasting anyone's time, updates should come a little more frequently and certainly, not months apart. That being said, it's been a while and I would love some feedback from someone who's not me, so if you have a moment just leave, you know, a word or something so that I can tell if I still got it. I'm the one writing this, but I take into account every single thing readers tell me. Enjoy._

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Owen shifted his weight anxiously, staring at the door bell. Last night he spent the most of the few hours he had in between shifts staring up at the trailer ceiling. It was actually nice, one would think it would be boring, but the moon light reflected all kinds of patterns on the silvery surface, thanks to the breeze blowing through the trees and leaves. Just now, standing outside of Richard's door, he wasn't entirely sure why he was even there. The decision whether he was going or staying was still up the air and all he was doing today was ask for advice. Yet, he couldn't push the damn button. He'd called beforehand, so he was sure the chief would be there, and during all those hours spent alone in the woods, he'd even come up with a speech and questions. He was prepared and had nothing to worry about, mostly because he was still not entirely sure he was going.

Going meant embarking once again in the exciting and tortuous and risky and fulfilling journey that had been the reason he got into medical school in the first place. The rush, the high, the blood, all the lives saved down there couldn't even begin to compare to what surgery was up here. It was dull and safe and repetitive and limited. The army, though, had left him with PTSD and several other issues that still nowadays, after years since his last deployment, gravely influenced his life as a human being. In Seattle he'd found love and a family, albeit a large, dysfunctional family he couldn't stand most days, but a family still. Most days that was enough. After the last time he was definitely not in the right place to just entertain the thought of going back, he'd turned the page, finished that chapter and moved on. Owen had not only reached that place now, but he was more than ready to jump on the first plane out. The only thing keeping him in Seattle was Amelia, or rather, the idea of settling down and having his own family. All his hopes and dreams had blown away like smoke after Cristina left and, while she wasn't the same, Amelia had kept him hoping. Until, of course, that specific hope went out the window. When he thought of it in terms of pros and cons it was really easy, straight forward. He was staying for Amelia, for the possibility of finally building the life he'd been dreaming of for years, but at the moment that wasn't happening. Amelia had broken up with him. Amelia had left him and basically told him all those hopes and dreams were too much for her, she told him even if he stuck around she wouldn't be able to give any of that to him, no matter how much she might have wanted to have that too.

Yet, if it really was so easy and already decided, if all he had to do was convince himself to go through that again, then why couldn't he even ring the door bell?

In the end, he didn't have to. As he was still deep in thought the door opened. He plastered on a smile, thinking of a quick excuse for his lateness. As soon as his eyes made in up in front of him, he had to pick up his jaw from the porch's wooden steps. For a second he was actually convinced he was hallucinating, because there was no logical explanation that would somehow justify Amelia standing right in front of him. It took one look to feel his confidence and decision making skills short circuit. He hated this feeling. The loss of control. She'd said it, love kick starts a series of chemical reactions in one's brain, neurons, synapsis, it all goes to hell. It should be comforting, in a way, that there is a logical, scientific explanation for feelings, but, really, it didn't make him feel any better.

"Hi." He said softly, not sure how to even talk to her. After that day in the on call room he'd kept his relationship with her strictly professional, but when he'd run into her in the cafeteria he'd felt something, something he was sure she'd felt as well. In a way that felt frighteningly natural he went back to the hospital chapel, when all he did was hold her hand for some time, before any kiss or any emotion or feeling got in the way.

Amelia must have sensed it too, because the tense, hardened look on her face relaxed a little at his sight. The surprise on her face was quite obvious, but Owen couldn't help but notice how her stance turned a little defensive and he hated even thinking that he made her feel that way. Amelia looked up at him, one of her eyebrows raised questioningly. "Owen. What are you doing here?"

It wasn't until he had to formulate the answer in his brain that he connected all the dots. Amelia was coming out of Richard's house very early in the morning. Amelia spent the night in Richard's house. Strangely enough, it wasn't jealousy he was feeling, not a bone in his body believed he had any reason to be jealous, but clearing that up begged the question of why she wasn't up at the house. "I'm just… I, uh, I'm here to talk to Richard." He saw her nod, averting his eyes, her shoulders relaxed some, but her face fell a little. "Why are you here?"

Amelia chuckled, her whole demeanor changing completely and Owen could tell she was faking it. She was good at it, but he'd become rather accustomed with her body language and micro expressions and, right now, she was doing a crap job at hiding it. "So you're not checking up on me?"

Owen frowned, it was pretty clear he was missing something. "Why would I be checking up on you?"

"Doesn't matter." She shrugged and looking at her right that second he couldn't see an accomplished woman, the head of neuro, he couldn't even see a doctor. The need to hug her and never let go was hard to resist, but she wasn't the scared, hurting, lonely child she looked to him. "I've got to go."

"Amelia." He called and she stopped, right before the porch steps, about three feet away from him. She turned around, only her head, looking expectantly at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." she answered curtly, setting off all the alarms in his head.

Owen reached out to her, but she didn't move a muscle. "If you need… anything," he saw her stat to nod and smirk and he stopped her before she could dismiss him with a sarcastic joke or easy retort that would make his stomach turn. "Please. You know I'm here, right?"

"Right." She nodded, knowing she wouldn't be able to go otherwise. Her attitude was still troubling to him, but he felt a flutter in his stomach when he saw the dimple show up on her cheek.

He was as aware of all the million reasons he wanted to be with her as he was aware of why that couldn't be. It wasn't all that clear, but in a way he got it. Maybe putting two broken people together, no matter how well they might understand each other, was a stupid idea. Rationally, he knew that, yet he couldn't change what he felt. "I care about you, Amelia. If something's going on I-"

"I really gotta go." She said nodding to her car. She was running, fast as she could. Running away from him and from her feelings and from whatever happened that he didn't know about. "Bye Owen."

She disappeared just like that, walking fast down those steps and to her car. Owen cursed her – and himself – all the two steps he still had to the door. He wasn't in the mood for that talk anymore. It wasn't entirely Amelia's fault, something she'd said or done, mostly it was all his fault. Going to Iraq was not a solution and Owen had never made it out to be, but it was like a pair of glasses, a chance to see things more clearly. It was also a noble and subtle way to run from all his problems here. Taking a couple of big deep breaths he made his way inside, calling out to Richard, who called him back into the direction of the kitchen. If there was something he had never been good at was covering up his emotions, putting on a mask, compartmentalizing in a way, which meant three steps into the kitchen Richard's comforting and infectious smile dimmed. It seemed having been chief for all those years had earned him some fine people skills, because he shot him a look that said more than any word could have.

"Sit down." He motioned to the chair next to his at the kitchen table, turning slightly his so that they sat in front of each other. Suddenly, it felt a little like sitting in the principal's office – not that Owen had ever experienced that personally – but the sense of authority Richard beamed off was a little overwhelming. "So," he began sunnily once Owen sat down rigidly before him. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Owen shifted nervously wondering why he felt like this at all. With every passing second he felt more and more like he was failing expectations and somehow letting everyone down. Himself before everybody else. "I was wondering how you would feel being chief again? Just for a little while."

Richard frowned, obviously this was rather unexpected. "I guess it would be fine, I mean, it all depends on how long we're talking about, but I could do it." As Owen relaxed visibly, his eyes narrowed, intrigued and worried about this all at once. "You already knew I would say yes." He paused staring deep in Owen's eyes, as if he knew he could easily find the answer there. "What's going on?"

"Uh…" that was going so well. Owen stared down at his lap. Waking up this morning, he felt excited and ready and felt that little panicky feeling he got whenever he was about to start something new, that tingly feeling that he couldn't quite tell whether it was good or bad. Now he felt shame and guilt, the worst thing was he had no idea why. It was unsettling how fast that had changed. It was confusing at best. "I was talking to Teddy a few weeks ago."

Richard nodded, a look of understanding flashing in his eyes.

"She mentioned they are looking for doctors to train younger doctors going into the army." Owen said all in one breath, the words were barely distinguishable and there were a few seconds he held his breath, not sure what he'd said actually made sense.

The look on Richard's face was unreadable. It wasn't joy or anger or worry, not any of those he got from the people that knew, but something else entirely. Maybe it was a combination of a few of those. Maybe Owen was just too unfocused to figure it out. After a torturous minute of waiting, his face changed a little, eyebrows rising and eyes widening. "You're thinking of going? That's why you want to make me temporary chief?"

Owen shrugged. "I was – I am. I am. I just… I'm not sure it's the right idea, but all at the same time I can't stop thinking about it." he tilted his head, looking away from this man, a man he respected personally and professionally more than he'd ever realized before that moment, a man whose judgement he held dear. "I miss it."

Richard nodded. He was thinking, pondering, making Owen feel a little fidgety in his chair. Now it did feel like an exam. A test. An evaluation. His leg was shaking a little and without his permission, his hands were balled in fists in his lap. Desperate to get his mind off things he looked around, briefly, taking in the classic and feminine décor of the house, the painted plates on the walls and the hardly used granite countertops. He was just scanning the room until his eyes found something out of place. It wasn't just out of place, it was oddly familiar and not Richard's for sure. Amelia's leather jacket was on one of the counters where she'd probably forgotten it after having breakfast. Owen felt a tug in his chest, remembering their meeting earlier. Time passed and Owen couldn't tear his eyes from the piece of clothing there, entirely absorbed by it, which meant he didn't notice Richard staring at him and the jacket, back and forth a couple of times before shaking his head.

"Hunt?" Owen turned abruptly, coming out of his trance way too fast to know what Richard's face meant. "Can I ask a question?" when he nodded still somewhat absently, he went on. "Why is it that you want to go so bad?"

Owen frowned, his face contorting, trying to hide the leftovers of his intense albeit short lived daydreaming. "I-I don't…" the twitch in Richard's eyebrows encouraged him to drop any poor excuse he was about to come up with and go on with the truth. Owen took a deep breath and looked down, gathering the courage to actually say the words. "I don't recognize myself anymore. I think for a while I've been looking for… a change. Even when Cristina was still here… I think it's time I made a change."

He'd wanted a kid. Plain and simple. Something he'd always thought would come along with life and, when he married Cristina, in his head it was a given. You get married and you have kids. Yet his life had taken on this unfortunately unexpected turn and his dreams had fallen apart, followed closely by his marriage. His love for Cristina was still there and would probably always be there, but the life he'd envisioned for himself had vanished. When he lost Cristina he'd considered finding someone who wanted the same things he did, but there are somethings you just can't force and that failed. Ethan had been an eye opener for him, Owen was sure if it came down to it he would have adopted the boy in the blink of an eye. He'd done the right thing, at the time, for everybody. The burning desire to have his own family, though, never left him. Cristina left and he spent those last few moments with her knowing they were the last for good and hoped for a new chapter of his life with her gone. It happened. At least, he thought it had. Amelia meant that to him, she was his new chapter, his chance and, what made him so sure was how he bypassed the whole get to know stage, understanding her so deeply and feeling the connection that sprung almost out of nowhere attracting him to her like a magnet. That chapter, though, was now finished. Or almost finished.

Richard hadn't said a word. Just breathing, air in and air out and again and again. It was just the faint sound of their breathing playing as soundtracks to their increasingly awkward and uncomfortable silence. Owen felt antsy and fidgety again. He wasn't supposed to feel that way, this should be something he wanted and something that came first. It seemed it didn't anymore.

"You're sure?" he asked as an afterthought and Owen nodded eagerly wide eyed, not knowing what to expect. "I mean, are you sure the change you're looking for is this? Going back to the army. Correct me if I'm wrong, but when I hired you, you told me you'd given all you could down there already and I do know there was something you didn't tell me. I'm not going to stop you, but I just want to know if _you_ think going back down there is the right idea?"

Owen nodded, but as the words started to sink in the nod slowed down, coming to a stop as his eyes instinctively landed on the jacket again. He wasn't distracted this time, though, and when his eyes made their way back up to Richard's he caught his knowing look. "No. No, that's not… she's not…"

Before he could stumble over anymore excuses, Richard held a hand up, signaling him to stop trying. "I don't need or even want to know. I want you to think about it. I assumed you had, with something that big, but apparently you didn't think hard enough."

"Look, it's just…" he stammered. "I think I need to get away for a while and the army was my home for so long and it gave me so much." Like huge, unsurmountable issues and PTSD. "It's time I gave back."

Richard just nodded, pressing a finger to his lips, his own eyes landing briefly on Amelia's forgotten jacket. "It's your decision. That's all I'm saying. Make the right one." When Owen looked down guiltily, he smiled warmly. "Take it from someone who made a lot of wrong choices, just, make sure it's all out in the air. Put all your cards on the table. Don't leave things unsaid and undone, because regret eats you right up."

Owen nodded, grateful for the words. It wasn't anything new, but in this very situation they applied almost perfectly. Amelia was, after all, what was holding him back – along with few other reasons. He hadn't talked to her, really talked, since she broke them up and he had no idea how to tell her he was leaving, because he couldn't face her and tell her that. They were not together, in any way, but there was something that told him it wasn't quite that easy. He knew what Richard meant exactly and he knew that his words were carefully designed to say something without saying it out loud. It was only then that a thought crossed Owen's mind. Amelia. Specifically, why was Amelia here? "Richard?"

"Yes?"

He looked away, Owen was going back and forth between wanting to know and feeling like it wasn't his place to ask. "Why is Amelia here?" When the surprise grew on Richard's face, he felt worry rise. "She's been sleeping here?"

Richard narrowed his eyes. Apparently, the word had not made it to the chief, so he had absolutely no idea what happened that night. At the time the instinct had been to protect Amelia from Derek, but mainly from the backlash of the hospital scuttle butt, it seemed he may have acted just in time to prevent that from even being necessary. He had no idea what on earth was going on between Owen and Amelia, nor he was going to ask, but he had a feeling Owen leaving had something to do with that too and there was a good chance going away for months might be an even bigger mistake than he'd anticipated. "It's not my place to say."

Owen sighed dejectedly. "She won't speak to me. I… please, I just want to know if she's okay."

Richard shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to get into their business. He wasn't going to talk to Owen about Amelia, just like he wouldn't breathe a word of this conversation to Amelia, when tonight she'd do her best to casually enquire about it. "Take a wild guess."

Amelia wasn't okay and he'd spotted that the second he'd seen her. It didn't take someone who knew her as well as he did to figure that out. What Owen knew was that Richard would never tell him what happened, not only it wasn't his place to tell, but Owen himself wasn't sure it was his to ask. When he looked up to the other man, he saw his eyes and he knew. They had an understanding. Whatever was going on was a mess and Owen was about to make it more of a mess, no matter his choice. His nod was dry and firm and full of regret and pent up frustration at life.

"Look, Amelia Shepherd is… she's complicated. I offered a safe heaven and she took it, but I won't even begin to wonder what is going on inside her head." Richard started with his typical, in no way condescending, fatherly, earnest tone. "Set your priorities and act accordingly, that's the best you can do."

In other words, Owen had just been told to either grow a pair and fix whatever broke between them, or leave her alone and go to the desert. He already knew this was the choice, but in his head it sounded a little less mutually exclusive. In a perfect world he would get to go away and come back to build their life together. Fact was, Amelia was a human being and a not so passive one at that, the proof was in how in the few weeks they spent apart somehow something happened that caused her to move in with Richard, as temporary as it may be.

Owen stood then, trying his hardest to ignore the jacket on the counter, wishing for just a moment Richard would leave the room, to be able to grab it and touch it and just be close to the Amelia he knew. The Amelia that didn't push him away, the one that made him happy. "Thank you. For everything." Richard nodded warmly, making him feel a little better about this disaster that was spiraling into his life like a tornado. Owen bit the inside of his cheek wondering if he should say much more or if all the words had been enough. If there was anything left to say at all.

However, once he was standing on the porch again, where just a few minutes earlier Amelia had been standing right before him, he couldn't keep it in anymore. He turned to face Richard, who had been a few steps behind him. "You take care of her?"

Not a statement, nor a question, just left it hanging in the air like that. Owen had not picked Richard on a whim, he was one hell of a man. He was the only one he would entrust with something like this, not only because he wasn't afraid Amelia would leave him – more than she already had – for him, but because in the herd of people gravitating around her, he was the only one who seemed to genuinely care for her. Apart Derek and Meredith, but Amelia's relocation was a not so subtle hint that whatever happened involved at least her brother.

"Will do." He nodded as Owen began walking to his car.

Meredith knew where to find her. The hospital was big, but there were only so many quiet places someone could hide. Amelia wasn't hiding, she was just making it extra hard for people to find her – that's what she'd told Edwards in the hall the other day, while the resident complained she wasn't in her office every single time she looked for her. Meredith couldn't help but sympathize. As she stealthily walked in, Meredith closed the supply closet door behind her as quietly as she could. She stood waiting patiently, but Amelia was too engrossed in rummaging through the ET tube section to notice, after a few seconds of waiting Meredith cleared her throat. Amelia looked up, evidently a little surprised to see her standing there, the surprise growing into annoyed curiosity as she took in the closed door behind Meredith.

"Did you need something?" Amelia asked tentatively, desperately trying to avoid turning this into yet another heartfelt plea to be family or whatever Meredith had in mind this time.

Meredith's eyebrows rose at her tone, but it wasn't nearly enough to dissuade her. "Actually, yes. I'd like for you to move back in."

Amelia's eyes widened at her bluntness and brows slowly narrowed on her forehead. "Well, I'm sorry then, not happening." She gathered the other supplies she'd spent nearly ten minutes selecting and took a couple of steps to the door.

"Amelia."

The dry, warning tone had her stop dead in her tracks. Meredith was the sweet, distant sister-in-law that doubtfully cared. Even when she sat on the bathroom floor with her, held her while she cried and kept her secret, Meredith was never this pushy. She was not insistent, she helped and she tried to understand, but Meredith was Switzerland to her. Derek was the one she was constantly up against, Meredith just kept it all together. "What?"

Meredith looked down. She was either gathering courage and patience or energy to explode. Amelia wasn't sure whether she should come up with witty, dismissive comebacks, or if she should duck. "You need to come home, you've been gone long enough, you can't stay with Richard forever."

With a lopsided smirk Amelia turned up to her. "If you're worried about me taking advantage of him and his hospitality, you don't have to worry. I'm a big girl. I can find another place when he's had enough of me."

"But you're not! You're not big. You're running, you're hiding. You and Derek fought, or whatever. So deal with it. Don't bury your head in the sand, that just doesn't work." Meredith said, once she found the patience and mommy voice she needed. "Come home. Deal with Derek."

Amelia's jaw was on the floor. The nerve Meredith had to come in and defend her husband. She didn't want it too and it should have never happened, but this tasted a little like betrayal to Amelia. She trusted Meredith to be on her side, to at least understand where she was coming from because, after all, in this argument she was right. Derek was wrong and she was right, simple as that. "I am dealing with it." Meredith's arched eyebrows irritated Amelia beyond belief. "I am." She insisted firmly.

Meredith sighed. "Look, I don't want to get in between you, that's your thing, but I know he's trying and I'm asking that you try as well. For your sake if anything."

"So, you're here to defend him, uh?"

"No." Meredith said calmly, trying her best not to sound condescending, because she knew that would lead nowhere. She was good at not judging, even Amelia had attested to that, but she found it hard at times not to be condescending with her. "I'm here because you're both being children. I already talked to him and he talked to me, now's your turn. I'm not saying to pretend nothing happened or that you're not hurt, because you obviously are. What I'm asking is that you try and fix it."

Amelia rolled her eyes. She had enough of Meredith's lectures. "Do you even know what he said to me?" As Meredith shook her head, Amelia continued. "He called me out on everything I managed to screw up in my life. Funny thing is, it was an incredibly detailed and overall complete list and he managed to let the whole hospital know too."

"I'm not here to defend what he-"

"According to him, I should stop messing up all the chances I get, because – hey, he can only give me so many before I run out of luck. This job, this was charity, it was to keep his seat warm while he was in DC, what is going to happen now that he's not there anymore? Then I should think about settling down, finding someone, starting a family." Amelia's voice cracked, but her resolve not to cry was stronger than it had been in a while. Her eyes were burning with tears, but, even blurry, she'd caught Meredith's eyes looking down, not holding her gaze anymore.

"He does that when he'd mad. You should know." When Meredith met Amelia's eyes she saw the confounded look and felt the urge to slap her – and her brother – on the head. "He hurts people. He's done it to me a million times."

Amelia shook her head, looking away. "Yeah, right."

Derek had done it enough times that she'd learned over time not to get as angry, dialing whatever hurtful words left his mouth down a little. She'd never let it slide, hoping one day he'd make the effort to try and not hurt her as an outlet to his own anger, but that was wishful thinking more than anything. "Right. And he has a sixth sense to pick the words that hurt the most." Meredith paused, watching understanding dawn on Amelia's face, feeling her eyes drawn to hers. "When we got Zola we were… fighting. He was mad at me for something work related. He told me I'd be the worst mother in the world and that still hurts when I think about it. He knew about my fears because of my mother, he knew I was anxious because I never really had a mother or, well, any parents at all. He knew and he said it. To hurt me, to make himself feel better about whatever was going on inside of him. To make me hurt more than he was."

Amelia tilted her head to the side, not sure how to respond to this. Her own anger and feelings were still valid, but so was Meredith's point. Never, in the over thirty years she'd known her brother had she thought of this, but suddenly it made a lot of sense. Many things he'd said to her were now diminished in the light of this new discovery. And – Amelia realized – she was a lot like him in that sense, she was just a lot messier and unfiltered and many of those things would come out on a random day.

"I know he doesn't think it. I do, I'm sure of that. It still hurts, though." Meredith gave a bitter smile, biting the inside of her cheek. "I'm saying, grow up a little. Chances may be you need to be the bigger person in this, but if that's the case, then get over yourself and clear things out with him. Okay?"

She shook her head. Meredith was annoying and condescending and constantly up in everyone's business. Meredith was also painfully right. Amelia found that particularly irritating. Derek had said things, though, things she found it hard to believe weren't true. "You know he said it was good that it was good I didn't have any kids? I mean, who knows how badly I would mess them up. Turns out, he was actually right about that. Brownie points to the golden boy." Amelia spat resentfully.

"Does he know?" Meredith asked matter of factly, ignoring Amelia's glossy eyes. Her face turned, her shoulders slumped and she knew immediately the answer to her question. "How can you expect him to, how-how can he… you really should tell him about that. Amelia you need to tell him sooner or later and the sooner the better."

"Why?" she breathed out, her voice sounding broken and defeated. "So he can throw that at me too? No thanks, I feel bad enough as it is. I don't want people to know."

Meredith frowned. In a perfect world, Amelia would tell Derek everything and Derek would finally work through all his issues happily ever after. In a perfect world, though, Amelia's baby wouldn't have died, thus rendering entirely unnecessary all these heartfelt confessions. "Owen knows."

It wasn't a question, but is wasn't even a statement of fact. Meredith suspected Owen knew from that day, the day she'd found out herself. Amelia's eyes whipped up to hers at the mention of Owen and Meredith felt a stab of guilt deep in her gut. "Owen knows… sort of. Not really. Not like you do."

"I'm glad you trust me enough to talk to me or… whatever it is, but it's Derek you need to tell these things to. It's harder because you care about what he thinks of you and I get that, but that shouldn't stop you. He loves you."

Amelia bit her lower lip, feeling it tremble, not wanting to show any weakness. "Whatever."

Meredith just shook her head and opened the door stepping out, before turning back one last time. "I'll see you at home tonight."

Wanting to get out of it Amelia looked up, but Meredith was gone. She hated that Meredith made sense, but she couldn't. Derek hurt her. Again and again, it was just stupid to move back in. To be hurt again, like Meredith, who just took it because she loved him. As the realization faded in Amelia felt blind rage mix up with frustration and irritation and disappointment - in herself mostly. In a second all the supplies were thrown down on the floor and there were hot tears running down her cheeks, leaving marks she knew would be on her face until she got home and cleaned them away. Addie some times would say to her when she was little, life isn't supposed to be this hard Amy, and Amelia laughed, saying it wasn't all that hard anyway. She could manage. She was managing.


	11. Eleven

_Apparently, I have spent an enormous time last week writing this chapter - actually, writing chapter eleven, so much that it turned out to be over 10k words, so I had to split it. I now have two chapters written, proof read and ready to be posted instead of just one. I'll hold off posting number twelve until thirteen is done and hopefully eve fourteen, which I already know is going to take ages to write, because it's a really awesome chapter and I want it to be super perfect. Also, if you don't already you should follow me on tumblr, cause I'll be posting loads of stuff this month, name's the same as here. _

* * *

It was early morning when Meredith woke with the distinct feeling she was being observed. She'd learned not to mind it, but it still bugged her that, while deeply asleep, she could sense him watching her. Today, though, it was also the uneasy feeling that settled deep in her belly once she woke enough that didn't allow her to just fall back asleep. Derek wasn't supposed to be home. Derek had surgery scheduled and here he was, icy blue eyes piercing her own, languidly and openly staring. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." He smiled, reaching one hand over to play with her hair. "I've been waiting for you to wake up for almost an hour." He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

Meredith wrinkled her forehead, rolling halfway away to peek at the alarm on her nightstand. "Well, seen as my alarm is going off in twenty minutes, you should have waited longer. I wanted to sleep." She pouted, rolling back against him, snuggling in, trying with all her might to hide from the sun coming through the huge windows. His arms came around her, wrapping her tight against him. "Not that I'm complaining," she mumbled into his chest. "But, but I thought you wouldn't be home tonight."

Derek lazily traced her back, burying his nose in her lavender smelling hair. "Amy took the surgery. It's her second night on call in a row, but I'm not complaining either."

Meredith huffed. After her talk with Amelia, she'd been informed by a reluctant Edwards that Amelia was on call that night. She was sick and tired of having to play mommy with Derek and Amelia, she was overly frustrated with having to constantly mediate between the two, while being completely ignored the few, rare few times they actually got along fine. It was a roller coaster she wasn't happy to be on. She was fine on the cold, plain, boring ground. It seemed, though, Amelia had managed to escape confrontation once again, by switching shifts with Derek, making it impossible for Meredith to do anything about it.

"If you don't want me home, you can just say so." Derek said with mock hurt in his voice.

Meredith shook her head against his chest, pulling back a little and laying back down on her pillow. "It's not you. It's Amelia."

The guilt over what happened with her was still eating up at him enough that Meredith saw him look away, look down at the thread of their sheets, anywhere but directly in her eyes. Meredith felt guilty herself for taking Amelia's side, even when he explained everything. In fact, Amelia was the wronged party there after all, but Derek was her husband and in the last few months all she had done was defend Amelia in front of Derek. Their arguments were usually petty and senseless, much like Zola and Bailey's and she'd been waiting to point that out, but the drama was always a bit of a humorous turn off.

"I've talked to her." muttered Meredith, not sure how Derek was going to take this, her taking initiative in something that didn't really concern her. "I kind of forced her to move back in, guess that's why she's taken your surgery."

Derek frowned, turning slowly to her, not sure he'd heard right. "You did what?"

Meredith looked away, not able to read his face or his thoughts enough to know which way this conversation was going now. "I told her she had to move back in. Like that. As in, I didn't really ask her, more like I told her."

"And it worked?" he asked, his hopeful eyes sparling in the early morning light, the guilt and shame was still there and – Meredith figured – it would be until they managed to talk things out, the _both _of them.

She shrugged her shoulders. The talk with Amelia had been one of the most mature ones they had had so far, barring the one on the bathroom floor, but she still had no idea if it would prove as fruitful as she thought it solemn and no nonsense. "Seen as she took your overnight shift after working all day yesterday, I'd say it didn't. Not only she doesn't live here now, but she's working all the time, literally all the time." Meredith snuggled into Derek as their talk turned to a more comfortable and united topic, it went from confession to working towards the same goal. "Maybe you should force her to come home."

"Right, cause she'd listen? Really, have you met Amy?" Derek asked incredulous, stroking her hair. "Besides she's my boss, if she wants my shift I can't really say no to her."

"You're on the board. We're both on the board. Can't we do something?" Meredith asked sleepily, words getting lost into the shirt she was pressed into.

Derek shook his head, chuckling to himself. Amelia was her own person, if she wanted to do something she did it, otherwise she wouldn't. There was really no telling her what to do, not even their mother could get through to her. The only person Amelia listened to – occasionally – was Addison, and even that was years ago. It was just a little funny that Meredith still hadn't grasped that about his little sister. "The board is for serious stuff, this is family stuff, we need to figure it out on our own. Maybe I should just talk to her again, not in the hall, maybe we could go out for coffee and have a real talk. Do you think that could work?"

Meredith sighed. She'd been right. Derek was working to make things better, to make amends and move past it, but Amelia wasn't ready. Amelia wouldn't let him get away with it, not until he truly, really understood what he did wrong. Problem was, Derek couldn't know because Amelia hadn't told him. Yet. "You can try, but honestly I doubt it. I think there's a lot going on with her, it's not just what happened with you, or the fact that she staying at Richard's, but… she just broke up with Owen and-"

"Owen!" Derek bolted up in bed, sending Meredith rolling away as he turned down to face her, jumping with excitement. "Of course, why didn't I think of that sooner?"

"Think what?" asked Meredith, still a little put off that she'd been sent backwards on the bed at this brilliant realization.

"Owen, maybe she should talk to Owen. He could convince her to move back in." he said showing off his million watt smile. "I mean, he cares for her and he's not me or you, so Amy might listen to him."

Meredith cringed as she realized he'd just opened up another can of worms. Derek didn't know, he had no idea about what Owen was doing – thinking of doing, but it was all the same at this point. "Actually that's a terrible idea, Derek." At his quizzical and a touch offended look Meredith sighed. "Owen wants to go back to Iraq." She let it sink in, she let the notion sediment in Derek's brain, knowing it had taken her a while too. She'd had a front row seat to the horror war had left Owen with when he'd come back, but Derek hadn't been sitting far behind. Meredith had watched Cristina struggle through it and she didn't wish it on anyone, ever, but especially on someone like Amelia, who – despite her strength – also sported great vulnerability. While the whole ordeal had strengthened the bond between Owen and Cristina, she highly doubted him and Amelia would make it through it.

"You're being serious." Asked Derek emotionlessly.

She nodded. "I don't know the details, I don't know anything really. Callie told me, but it seems like he really wants to go." Meredith saw Derek shake his head slowly, side to side, still not quite believing what she was saying. "Apparently Teddy called and they need experienced docs to train younger ones."

"Does Amy know?"

Meredith shrugged, she hadn't asked, the conversation at hand had been bad enough without throwing Owen leaving and possibly dying into the mix. "Not sure, but I don't think so. It didn't seem like she knew when we talked."

Derek felt the wheels in his brain start turning and there was no stopping it after that. To say he liked Cristina would be a bit much, perhaps, but she was family and you don't get to pick family. Cristina was Meredith's family and she'd become his too over the years, he trusted her and he admired her and he considered her an incredible doctor, but she wasn't his idea of family. His family was warm and loud and inviting and she wasn't any of those things. Deep down Meredith probably hadn't been too thrilled when he let Amelia move in with them, but she'd handled it rather well. Amelia was loud and warm with a touch of dark and twisty – actually, way more than a touch, but that must be why Meredith took such a liking to her. Derek loved Amelia, he loved her so much he'd spent half his life hating her for it. He didn't love Cristina the same way, yet he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy to deal with Owen and his bouts of PTSD. It was a disease and Derek fully supported him, especially when he went to get help and got better for her, but he wouldn't let that happen to his little sister. Not the little sister who needed that kind of help and support in the first place.

Besides, as his friend and possibly his best friend since Mark had passed away, he didn't want Owen himself to go through that again. Walking through the halls of the hospital, he decided, it was a stupid idea to let him go down there – not considering the fact that there was always a not so little chance that he wouldn't come back at all. It wasn't just about him or Amy or Meredith or Cristina, this hospital was chock full of people who wanted him in one piece, preferably here. The fact that Owen knew all of this and couldn't have made this decision lightly wasn't lost on Derek, but he still couldn't understand himself.

"Owen!" he called as he spotted the red head passing a few feet away from him. "Wait up! I need to talk to you."

Owen stopped walking, his sunken cheeks and dark circles under his eyes becoming more and more evident in the fluorescent light. "Shepherd I'm busy."

Derek sighed, knowing this was his moment before everything would spiral out of control as usual, the hectic life in the hospital taught him to get things over with fast. "Okay. I'll make it quick. I heard you are going back to the army." Owen looked down, averting his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I wanted to tell you that it's a stupid idea."

"Shepherd-"

"No, I get it, Cristina left and it's been a crap year for you. I can understand that, but why would you do that? Why would you go back there?" Derek breathed out all at once, almost afraid he wouldn't get to say it all if he stopped.

Owen shook his head, he was not going to discuss this with Derek. Not that he'd discussed this with anyone else really, but Derek was right after Meredith on the list of people he really didn't want to talk this over with. "Is this really necessary?"

Derek frowned, Owen's disinterest was disconcerting and it fueled Derek's interest and curiosity. He tilted his head, making sure to keep a firm look on his face. "Yeah, actually, it is."

"Why?" asked Owen dejected and tired voice cracking Derek's intentions to keep him from doing something idiotic, most likely for all the wrong reasons. "Is this because of Amelia? Because you know we're not together anymore, she made her choices and I'm making mine."

The frown deepened and Derek realized for the first time that there was a whole other side to this argument he hadn't stopped to consider. He'd thought of a lot, but this was new. "It's also about Amelia, but no, Owen, it's about you."

"Look what's between me and Amelia… stays between me and Amelia. As far as me, I guess, I just wanted a change, simple as that. I need something to change and I used to love it down there, it used to make me feel alive, so why not, Derek? Why shouldn't I go?"

"Owen you have family here-"

Owen looked on the line between exhausted and irritated as he interrupted. "No, I don't. You have a family, I have a – had a wife and I have friends, my mother has never stopped me from going before and that's not going to change now."

Yet, Derek didn't relent. "What about Amelia?"

"_What_" Owen started, crossing the line to irritated in full swing. "about Amelia?"

His eyes widened as he scrambled to find an argument – any argument that would convince him not to go. He'd thought about it in depth in the car and on the ferry and through the long, luminous corridors, Owen's reasons for wanting to go were valid and understandable and he would have supported any other kind of change, but this. Appealing to his obvious affection for Amelia was a low blow, but in the heat of the moment, Derek was really convinced he could take two birds with a stone. "You care for her and she cares for you. Whatever happened… isn't that reason enough? I mean, you can try again or you could talk to her-"

Owen's eyebrows shot up at the ridiculous comment. "Talk to her? Really? Derek, have you met your sister?"

Hearing Owen echo his words from that morning made him smile slightly, that was the usual phrase that people that knew Amelia would say when accused of not communicating well enough. "Uh, yes. I know she can be a little hard to talk to some times-"

"Some times?" asked Owen incredulous. "I do care for her. I really do, but she's… she doesn't need someone like me. She has you and Meredith and Richard and she's going to be okay without me."

Derek felt a little stunned at the turn in their conversation. "I'm her brother, of course she has me, and Meredith, but Richard? She was just lucky he was there in the lobby the other night. I was horrible to her, I yelled at her and I was angry and mean, and I hurt her." He looked down, then, with the distinct feeling that he'd said too much already. If the brief glimpse of Owen's stunned face he caught before turning his eyes to his shoes was any indication, he had absolutely no idea what happened. "War is tough on you – on everybody – but you already struggled through that and…" he rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't want to see you go through that again."

But the last few words had gone lost in the wind as Owen still hadn't fully processed his earlier confession. "You did what?"

"What?"

Owen frowned, hoping Derek wasn't being intentionally dense. "You yelled at her in the lobby? Because you were angry?"

He sighed and looked away, clearly not after talking to Richard and Meredith and even Amelia he felt any better about it. Not that he should. He was in the wrong, there was no doubt about that, yet he was desperately trying to make it up to his sister, whatever it took. He apologized, now he was going to move to begging, as per Meredith's advice. "It was…" he shook his head, before looking back up into Owen's eyes. "We had a disagreement. I was out of line and Webber stepped in."

"That's why she's been staying with him?" Derek nodded simply, ignoring the accusing tone of Owen's voice. "So, you're claiming to know what she needs and wants, and giving me a hard time about leaving, when you're the first to hurt her like that? Why are we even talking about it? What does Amelia have to do with anything?"

Derek's gaze turned to ice as he felt a finger pointed to him, but also the words left him with the instinct to protect Amelia. "She's my little sister. I know her and yes, we fight. I was wrong to do that, but it doesn't matter. Amelia, on the other hand, does matter."

"She does." Owen agreed emotionlessly. "But not if she doesn't want it and she doesn't."

Derek scoffed, feeling a little insulted – on Amelia's behalf as well, something she'd be so pissed about if she knew – by those words. Now that he thought of it, all he knew about their brief relationship, if it was even that, was that it was over for reasons obscure to everyone and the both of them too, and Meredith had somehow had something to do with it, but was apparently trying to fix it. A few dates and sex didn't mean Owen knew Amelia better than him. There was no way. "You are what now? The Amelia whisperer?"

Owen looked a little affronted at his insinuation, but didn't respond, staring at him with a gaping mouth, looking like he was about to speak. "Let's just drop this, okay?"

Both men stared into each other's eyes, neither wanting to look away afraid they were going to give up and lose whatever power struggle they convinced themselves this was. Stupid was all this was. An excess of testosterone mixed with big brother versus kind-of-boyfriend tension that was just ridiculous and so typically male. Eventually, Derek looked away, a nurse waving at him from the other end of the hallway, and – not before throwing Owen a glare meant to get him to question this conversation – he walked away.

Derek was wrong. Derek he had to be. Amelia played a major part – no pun intended – in his decision to deploy and Owen knew that. Yet, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was just using her as an excuse. Most days, as of recently, he would oscillate between being one hundred percent positive he would be getting on that plane, to staying and trying like hell to build that life he so badly wanted, craved, yearned for even. The fact that Amelia could be a part of that plan wasn't a certainty, but just his desire, more of a dream, really, after she'd clearly stated she wanted no part in it. With that, he'd be back to thinking of the desert and blood and gore and death all around him. Maybe Richard was right, if he told her, if he put it all out there, the choice would make itself. He'd have her input since she was the one basically holding him down here, unintentionally, but still.

He was briskly walking down the hall, trying to get as far away as he could from the site of this conversation, stirring doubts in him he no longer had the patience or energy to deal with. While a part of him was more than fully aware that walking away didn't mean it didn't happen, a slight change of scenery was nice and welcome. What he hadn't planned, or in any way thought would happen, was quite literally bumping into Amelia after turning a few corners. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, he did. He really, really did. Owen, though, did not want to just see her, Owen wanted to sit her down and have a serious conversation – preferably with some privacy as well and no interruptions, something that wasn't bound to happen into his hospital, on call or not. He had the crazy, but possibly extremely accurate idea that Amelia did in fact want all that he wanted, but was paralyzed in fear. Given the last few years of his life he wasn't exactly jumping at the idea of getting married again and embarking in what a relationship is and entails, not after how much he suffered during his time with Cristina. He loved her, he adored her and he wanted everything with her, but his everything didn't match her everything and in the end that had turned out to be too much of a difference between them.

There was a chance Amelia was just terrified, much more than he was, which was understandable, even through the little he'd come to know about her, their experiences couldn't even begin to compare. He should talk to her. His eyes found hers, hoping the silent communication between them was still as effective as it had been, hoping that he would get a glimpse of her true feelings just from a little peek in her blue eyes. Amelia's eyes, though, were hidden, her whole face was covered by a box. She was holding two boxes, stacked on top of each other in her arms, walking toward the lobby just like him.

"Hi." He said, smiling gently, scared she would run away like a scared animal if he put more sentiment in it. "Do you need some help?"

Amelia strained to find a position where she could keep the boxes balanced in her hands while looking at Owen, but it seemed the two really couldn't happen at the same time. The second she leaned a little to the side to look at him in the face, the boxes tipped dangerously to the side, compromising her balance. Luckily, Owen grabbed the one on top, taking it from her hands, which allowed her to set her weight back on her own two feet. It took a few seconds to register that moment, but Amelia looked up gratefully at him. "Thanks." Owen just smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Can I carry it somewhere for you?" the words were calculated to the last detail – just like his mother taught him with terrified strays, let them sniff you and decide if you can be close to them, don't scare them away. "The ER is actually slow today." He offered.

Caught a little off guard, Amelia gaped at him without answering for a bit, not entirely sure herself what to say. "Sure. I'm just loading them up in the car."

Owen nodded, still smiling, and Amelia let herself be comforted by his presence, before turning to resume her trip to the parking lot. They walked in silence side by side, her some times catching herself accelerating and slowing down immediately, matching her pace to Owen's. just as silently, they reached her car and Amelia promptly popped the trunk, dropping her box in, without much fuss. Turning around to face Owen, she just nodded to the empty space, at the end of the pile of four boxes she had in there. With more care, he set it down, keeping his hands on it a little longer than required by the simple task of putting it away.

As he stood back up, closing the trunk as he went, he found Amelia leaning against the side of her car, hand pressing on her temples. She jumped a little with the noise and looked around with wide, blue eyes until she met his. It was then that he finally noticed the dark circles under her eyes and how the blue looked paler, dazed, hollow. He leaned on her car, next to her, making sure he was not too close, but not too far. Let the puppy come to you, his mother would say. "How are you?"

"I'm…" _fine_. That's what he thought she would say. That's what she always said, be it true or the farthest thing from it. Amelia was one of the strongest people he'd had the chance to know, yet her weaknesses were constantly dragging her down, regardless of how much she fought. "I'm tired."

Owen nodded sympathetically. "Well, you have been on call for two days straight."

"No, not like that. I mean, I'm exhausted, but it's nothing a nap won't fix." She shook her head, hand dropping, arms crossing over her chest. Amelia looked up at him, giving him a lopsided smile, trying her best to make it an actual smile, but it didn't happen. "I'm just tired of this. My life as it is, it's just all so hard and I don't know why. It's not this hard for everybody."

In the heat of the moment, before Owen would actually realize what he had done, his hand flew up to her shoulder. Amelia didn't flinch or move away, but she didn't respond to his touch at all. That would be enough for now.

"You're moving back in?" he tried to distract her, but soon after the words left his mouth he realized just how big a mistake he'd made. Derek had just told him why she'd moved out and Owen didn't mean to drag it all up.

Amelia shrugged. "Meredith kind of forced me to. Not that I mind, I wouldn't otherwise, but it's… this is… it's all getting to be too much."

Owen frowned, not really understanding what she meant – in the general sense, even considering her life, yes, he definitely got it, but right this moment, he was a little lost. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I guess everything is just… Owen," she called for his attention. "there's not one thing working in my life right now and I'm not really sure why."

He nodded with a thoughtful look on his face, really trying to get her point. There wasn't much to get there. Amelia wasn't perfect, she was riddled with issues varying from a weird lizard phobia to proper disorders and it didn't take Freud to know it couldn't be easy for her to just be. In the short time she'd let him close enough to see it, he'd noticed all these little things she did – most likely involuntarily and unconsciously – that had a serious impact on her and them, by association. It wasn't just the trust issues, as it wasn't the remnants of her addiction or the grief and guilt she still carried with her everyday, it was the whole of those. It was a dangerous mix, that coupled with her enviable intelligence and sensitivity was the recipe for disaster. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

Neither spoke for a little while, enjoying the moment and making the most of this off time before a pager would go off.

"I need a change." Amelia said suddenly, voice muffled and words slightly slurred. "I can't go on like this."

Owen turned around to her. Her words scared the crap out of him. He had no idea what she meant with change exactly, what it was that she wanted to change, but he felt dread spread through his body. It wasn't explicit, not even close, but to him it sounded like her idea of change didn't include him, and suddenly, he felt as if she was effectively shutting him out of her life. Suddenly, that life he was supposed to fight for to build was gone, abandoned, left to moss and lichens to grow on, left to stray animals to find shelter in. In a split second, his decision had turned into a no brainer and he looked into her eyes distantly. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"I just wish…" Amelia bit her lip, not wanting the words to spill out as they usually would, trying so hard to keep up that famous filter she'd been badgered for years to work on. "I just wish it was easier, you know?"

For years it made no sense to her, how so many people go about their life making it look almost automatic, acting by default, not even thinking – instead, she had to fight tooth and nail for the slightest achievement and, as with every fight, she also had to deal with defeat some of the time. If her life were any easier she'd be able to get her own place and finally move out of Derek's house, going over for dinner just a couple nights a week, for the littles' sakes. Also, she might find the courage to call her people down in LA and confess that her move up to the Pacific North West wasn't all fun and happy times as she'd painted it out to be. Most of all, though, Amelia wanted a future. Amelia wanted the possibility of one and that was what Owen was offering, if only she could take him up on it. She needed to make a change and make all that happen. Amelia was headstrong and determined and she was willing to fight for this, all of it.


	12. Twelve

_so we're getting in the thick of it. just a couple more chapters before my fav one. I have been working on that one for the longest time now and I'm so terribly nervous about sharing it, but I guess time will come. Let me know what you all think!_

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It wasn't all that late when Derek made it home. He had just got off his shift and headed home immediately to hopefully catch some sleep before he had to head back in tonight. Amelia had taken all his nights for the last few days and, while he was infinitely grateful, she couldn't do that forever, more than that, he wouldn't let her. As he would all those times he'd get to come home to an empty house, Derek let the calm and quiet soak in, the noise of the wind blowing through the trees and the occasional bird and all the other relaxing nature sounds the house position offered. It was too cold to sit outside anymore, not without extra covers and he wasn't in the mood for that, rather he found sitting on the couch, staring out one of the giant windows, realistic enough. It was in these moments that he truly felt able to empty his mind and let it all out, mentally and emotionally, without the need to hide or put on a mask, the soothing effect of the woods adding to it.

He was in the midst of his sort-of meditation session, when the door opened wide, hitting the wall behind it in the process, dragging him away from his reverie. A little taken aback, but sluggish in his movements and reactions, Derek turned to the source of the offending noise, eyes going wide in surprise. The door was completely open, letting in the freezing air from outside, but there was no one there. Actually, there was a box – no, two boxes sitting right there on the threshold. As confusion began to spread all over his body, he sat up, seriously considering the option that this was just a weird dream. And it wasn't. Not even two minutes later Amelia, not Amelia really, something that looked like boxes with legs, appeared in the doorway and kicked the boxes on the floor inside the house, shutting the door as soon as she could.

There was a moment of pause. The hay rolling across the street, crickets filling in the silence kind of moment. Amelia stared at Derek, her eyes a kaleidoscope of ever changing feelings and emotions, definitely topped by disappointment, and Derek stared back, letting the realization that Amelia was actually moving back in sink in deep.

"Amy." He called. Smiling softly, unable to keep the still overwhelming guilt from showing whenever he merely looked at her.

Amelia just smiled back, awkwardly, tiredly, sadly and then proceeded to carry two of the boxes to her room, dropping them at the foot of the bed, letting herself breathe for a bit, without facing Derek. Unfortunately, her alone time was cut short, when her brother appeared just behind her carrying the remaining boxes, putting them down next to the other ones gently, much like Owen had. Amelia sat on her bed, crossing her legs under her, averting his big brother searching eyes. He wasn't staring, not like that, he was looking at her one second and away the next, she could see him switch his weight between his feet, fidgeting, nervously trying to decide whether he should leave or stay.

"I'm glad you're moving back in." he finally said, taking a couple of step in the direction of her bedroom door.

Amelia looked up, eyes devoid of any particular emotion, lips twitching. "Yeah, but, uh… I think I'm going to stay at the hospital. Just for a couple more days."

Derek nodded. The disappointment was fairly evident on his face, his eyes falling down to the floor in shame. "Okay. It's fine. Just happy to have you back."

He smiled at her and she knew the second he saw it. Amelia didn't remember much about her dad and in time the little things she had managed to remember were slowly fading away like an old photograph, with dog ears and scratches and an orangey look all over. That, though, was burnt in her mind and it felt like yesterday the last time she'd seen it. Derek's smile, this smile, it was her dad's smile. It was identical and it felt identical. "Do you remember Michelle?"

Amelia's words had come the second before his feet would have carried him out the door. He frowned, trying to place Michelle, but he couldn't even think of anyone he knew with that name, much less someone ties somehow to Amelia. Derek frowned, letting a puzzled look wipe the smile from his face, narrowing his eyes, as if it would help in placing this woman. "From college. She came home with me one year. You and Addie were there." Amelia continued.

"Of course. I remember now. What about her?" he looked up with a softer look.

"When I was in LA I convinced her to take the test - uh, her mother died of Huntington's disease and I convinced her to take the test to see if she had the gene." Amelia was looking down at her hands in her lap, not daring to meet her brother's eyes, not when she had to keep strong for a little more still. "Turns out she had it. I lied to her, I tried to make it better, I was scared she would kill herself if she found out she was sick, so I lied."

Derek shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Amy. Does she know now?"

Amelia looked up at him in confusion. Derek thought it was something recent, without much details in the context department, it was an easy assumption to make, and one that would easily explain why she'd been so edgy lately. Instead, of offering an answer, Amelia went on. "I told her. I had to promise to kill her myself when the symptoms would start."

He looked at his little sister, Derek didn't have the first clue what this was all about, but this was far more than he'd expected when she started talking. "The next time we saw each other, about two years ago, it was time."

When the point of all of this was finally within reach – or what he thought the point was, anyway – Derek sat down heavily next to her. "God, Amy, tell me you didn't-"

"I did it." She cut him off. She wasn't telling him all of this because she needed to be lectured, Sheldon had done it enough at that time. "She got scared, though. She ended up in the hospital, where they saved her." Amelia shook her head, it sounded so simple when she put it like this, stripped down to words and ready made phrases that did no justice to the way she'd felt. "I had been drinking for a while then. Not just drinking, like, serious drinking. I knew it was dangerous, I knew it wasn't pills, but it was… it was how it made me feel that was dangerous."

Amelia made the mistake to look up at Derek, who'd looked away, his head wasn't hung in shame like before, he was looking away in disappointment – disappointment in her. She knew the look all too well, the tightly clenched jaw and balled fists instead of hands, the tell tale signs of helplessness. "When I went to pick her up I told her. I think I was kind of scared, but I didn't tell Addie or anyone there, I didn't want them to know. I promised to help and she promised to help me too and… god, Derek, I felt so relieved."

Derek had grown up with four sisters and he was used to them word vomiting their life to him in various occasions, but Amy had never been like the rest of them. She was a little more reserved and interiorized a lot more, something that scared both him and their mother plenty when she lost track as a teenager. He knew what happened two years ago. He knew she'd relapsed and therefore, he knew the bomb had yet to be dropped. His medical training and passion for the brain and nervous system were yelling at him to stop, because every single time her addiction came up, he held it against her. While he never told her that, he wasn't as good at masking his body language well enough that she had no idea. Derek knew it wasn't her fault, knew it was completely out of her control, but like everything regarding the mind he had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that it was a disease just like any other. He'd never fault one of his patients for having a brain tumor, yet he wasn't able to do the same – not entirely – with Amelia. Part of him, also, just couldn't accept that little Amy was sick, the kind of sick not even the best doctor in the world would be able to cure.

His hand found her knee, squeezing het tiny leg with his hand, hoping to offer some support. "I found her dead. That night, I found her in her bed, dead. She was prescribed oxy for the pain and she took half the bottle." Her voice cracked a little and Amelia herself wasn't sure if it was because she was in a way still grieving the loss of her friend, or because she knew what kind of an impact that had on her life. "There were pills everywhere and… and I just took some."

"Is that what caused you to relapse?" asked Derek gently, knowing it was a minefield, the chances of setting her off, or saying the wrong thing were just as high as saying the right one.

Amelia shrug her shoulders. "I don't know." She said in a small voice. It was the same little voice, the one he heard over the phone when he called from college. "It just happened. One day I was okay and the next I wasn't. I felt alone. I really didn't know who to turn to. And then I met Ryan."

This was another name that rang no bells for Derek. While he vaguely remembered Michelle, he had no memory of Amelia ever even mentioning someone by that name. Not as if he would know because at that time he hadn't really made a point to keep in touch with Amy. He and Meredith had just lost Zola and his focus was elsewhere.

"Ryan was-"

It clicked. It was sudden and a little unexpected, but Derek figured it out in the end. "He was you boyfriend?"

Amelia nodded sadly. "Yeah. He was… supportive and kind and he cared. At first it wasn't much, he had pills and that's what I wanted, but I guess he was the first person in my life to accept me for who I was, just like that. He knew how it felt and it made me feel…"

"Loved?" Derek tried. Amelia was staring out the window, but he'd caught the look in her eyes, it was always the same look, though not one he'd seen on her face all that many times.

"Something like that. I was high all the time. I'm not even sure what I remembered, but it felt so… so real." She could feel her entire body ache, her chest felt heavy and her lower lip trembled as she spoke, but tears were nowhere to be seen. "He asked me to marry him. He felt the same and… you would have hated him. I remember thinking about how you would take it." Amelia smiled, letting herself relive the moment for however long she could. "He was serious about it, though. He said he wanted kids and he insisted we should get sober and start putting our lives together."

Derek's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He didn't know much about Amelia's relapse as Addison hadn't been sure herself what to tell him, he'd heard of some dead beat boyfriend hanging around, but from Amy's words it sounded a lot different. And she was right, he would have hated him. "He doesn't sound all that bad." He offered with a smile, he had to have been really serious about her, if he decided to get clean. It was another little annoying tidbit about addiction he'd picked up, especially during his psych rotation, for an addict to come to the point of wanting to get sober, there as to be a truck load of will power involved and that Derek had always found quite admirable.

"He wasn't. I was bad." Amelia turned, looking straight into Derek's eyes for the first time since she'd started talking. They were identical, it was a little scary to look into them. Somehow she had no problem when she looked at Bailey, but Derek was different. As if sensing her fear, Derek reached over her lap, taking her tightly clasped hands in his, holding onto them. "It was supposed to be one last high and then rehab. Instead," she laughed drily. "He overdosed. I woke up and he was dead. I got to go to rehab and he ended up six feet under."

It was a little overwhelming to let this all out. She talked about this briefly at meetings, not really offering much detail to the room full of strangers she was talking to. Amelia had never talked about this to anyone, ever. Everyone in LA knew about it and she'd avoided dragging all that baggage up here, but it seemed it might have unintentionally got lost in the few things she actually moved with her. Ryan would always be a huge part of her life, no matter how very few people knew about him. Ryan would always be her son's father and nothing could ever change that. In a way, Amelia was grateful for that.

Still feeling the shock of her confession sink in, Derek brought his other hand up to Amelia's back, wanting to comfort her, wanting to feel better for all of this. The second they touched, though, she flinched and he took his hand away. "Sorry," she whispered. "Can you not touch me?"

The hand holding was fine, but nothing more than that. Derek knew why. Amy was afraid to falling apart, touch, comfort, love, it would make all the pieces she was putting together fall apart and she didn't want to have to put them back together. He sighed, respecting her wishes. She deserved none of this. Nobody deserved none of this, but least of all his baby sister, the one that had to witness their dad being shot when she was just a little kid. All in all, despite sharing that same experience, he'd recovered and built a life, but she hadn't been able to. Amelia had become the teenager who overdosed after crashing his car, she was the black sheep and despite all the work she put in building her life too, she couldn't seem to catch a break. "I'm so, so sorry Amy."

"I just…" she sniffled. "I'm still getting past it, I'm still working on it and I thought moving up here would help."

Derek frowned, suddenly feeling like he was missing something. "It's not? I mean, apart from your jackass brother, how is everything not working?"

Amelia shrugged, but the look in her eyes told him he should know why – he didn't, but she thought he would. "I live here, with you and Meredith, which is fine, apart from the fact that I should have my own place. I don't have any friends, just coworkers I see every single day and I have a job that every single person in there believes should be yours."

"I like that you have my job and I know you're fully capable and maybe even less of an arrogant ass as I am." Derek chuckled, getting a smile from her. "And you can stay here for as long as you want. We love having you here. Honestly, I think Meredith loves you more than she loves me."

Her eyebrow arched at the mention of Meredith. "She, uh, actually suggested I talk to you about all of this. Said it would help you get the bigger picture." Only it wasn't the bigger picture, it was _a _bigger picture, one that didn't include having her dead boyfriend's terminally ill baby. Amelia figured it was enough for today and, frankly, she'd rather keep that story for herself, no matter how much Meredith pushed.

He just nodded, reminding himself not to touch her, not to be too close because she didn't want that, she couldn't handle that. Knowing the extent of what she had to overcome on top of the addiction made his swell in pride for her. When the news had come that she'd ended up in rehab again, he'd been less than thrilled, but kept himself out of that. This put into context a lot of what happened since she moved, it actually shaped her up better. Ever since she'd show up out of the blue a few months ago she'd looked different, more mature, more put together, more confident in herself both professionally and personally, and overall she looked more like a grown up and less like Hurricane Amelia. Losing her friend and losing a man she loved and going threw detox must have been incredibly hard and it was testament to her strength and perseverance if she was here today, the way she was here today.

They sat comfortably in silence for a while, it was nice. Derek still hadn't process entirely her words, but the worry that was slowly leaving him was replace by care and love and pride and the desperate need to hug her tight. Amelia was still sitting there, still cradling all their hands in her lap, still silent. Not that she would ever tell her, but she actually felt better after telling him. It really actually did help, not just the fact that Derek may now cut her a little slack and hopefully treat her more like an adult than he did, but also it was one less secret between them. "Amy I… I'm here. You know that, right?"

Amelia suddenly looked up at him, something in his voice drawing her to him. "I do."

Derek smiled, squeezing her hands, her eyes looked a little brighter and he felt better too about their fight. What didn't sit right with him right now was his conversation with Owen and how that had ended. "Hey Amy have you talked to Owen recently?"

"Yes," she frowned, confused at the sudden change in topic. "I talked to him just before I left to come here, actually."

"Has he told you something?"

The frown deepened on her face. "Something like what? I mean, I did the talking really. What should he have told me?"

Derek felt like punching Owen in the gut. He'd made the effort, he really had, Derek put himself in his shoes, but he still couldn't get it. It wasn't just about leaving, because he'd just done that – and that had ended badly as well – but also, he had to fight so hard last time to keep it all from falling apart, that he didn't thing it was even to be considered going back, not when he possibly had other options. "Guess not, then."

Brows furrowing, Amelia shrugged.

Suddenly feeling like he'd overstayed his welcome, Derek patted his legs, standing awkwardly by her bed. It wasn't like him, but he was nervous and happy and the mix made him twitchy and smiley all at the same time and, from the look on his sister's face, he could tell she was immensely confused by it. "I'm going to go get some sleep." Amelia nodded. "I'm really proud of you, you know?"

Amelia smiled, taking in the words she had so rarely heard from her brother – from anyone, really – relishing in the light, happy feeling that came along. Somehow the effect felt dampened by an overlaying shadow of exhaustion, emotional and physical, that she couldn't seem to escape lately. He smiled back and then, much to her surprise, he leaned down placing a soft kiss on her forehead before walking out.

Making the effort to turn her life into what was by standard normal felt weird. Amelia wasn't used to normal, she had no white picket fence dream, none of the ambitions and aspirations she was raised to believe she'd have. She cut into people's brains and she was damn good at it, she had no home and never really had one all for herself – save for a couple months in LA – despite her need and desire to find someone to spend her life with, the ghosts of her past made the idea always less and less appealing the closer she got to have that. Her conversation earlier with Owen had lit a spark of hope, making her genuinely believe that maybe, just maybe, she might have a chance. The demons that brought them together were the same ones that had driven them apart only a little bit later. There had to be a way around that, Amelia was convinced of that.

All the same Owen had voiced his need for a change as well. Amelia wanted to get her life together and work to what it was she thought they both wanted, but what she had missed – what Owen had missed as well – was that their need for a change went in two opposite directions. In fact, Owen had taken her revelation as the final push to call Teddy and book a flight. All that Owen had heard was rejection and, deep down, he'd felt in his gut dread. Amelia had run up to Seattle running from an engagement and – while he didn't know the details – he was more than familiar with the Shepherd way of dealing, involving running to the woods, drinking beer and growing a beard. Maybe Amelia wouldn't grow a beard and he seriously hoped she wouldn't take up drinking, but the running and hiding was definitely accurate. He was sitting at the desk, staring at the OR board, noticing with a grimace that she was operating until very late tonight as well. She was overworking and not getting enough sleep. A part of him wished he could do something to help, but she'd been clear enough. She wanted her life to change and he obviously wasn't contemplated into the new version.

"You waiting for it to update itself?" asked an amused voice from behind him.

Owen turned around, head whipping in the direction of the voice, brows raised. "Uh?"

Callie smiled, tilting her head as she took in Owen's rugged appearance. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." He said immediately, a dead giveaway that he was anything but, although the dark circles and deepening creases on his forehead were clear enough sign, without needing him to confirm it. "Sure."

She pursed her lips, leaning against the desk with a knowing look. "You don't look it."

"Sorry," Owen shrugged, averting her prying eyes. "Can't do much about that."

A bit miffed at his curt and plain tone, Callie frowned, deciding in an instant if she would be offended or if he was just pushing her away and she was supposed to push back. Owen Hunt wasn't surely the most level headed guy she knew, but he was usually polite and professional – at work at least. This was out of character for him and Callie found she did mind his harsh response after all. "You could rest. You could delegate. Also, you could talk to someone, you know, we all have bad days or months or whatever – don't take your anger and frustrations out on other people, because, trust me, that never ends well."

Hanging his head, Owen sighed. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Well, come one, then." She said nodding her head and motioning for him to follow her with a wave of her hand. "Let's go sit down somewhere." When she noticed him hesitating, eyeing the OR board, before her, Callie shook her head. "Oh, no. That's still going to be there in twenty minutes, come with me."

They sat in the attendings' lounge, enjoying a few seconds of peace and quiet away from the maddening chaos of the hospital. Owen was sitting rigidly, hands balled into fists and jaw clenching periodically. It certainly didn't take a doctor to see that all his muscles were tight and that was saying something about whatever was going on inside his head.

"Is this about Iraq?" asked Callie softly, when she couldn't take anymore of the torturous waiting.

Owen turned to her sharply, a little surprised and feeling a pang of guilt curse through him suddenly and painfully. He wasn't even sure why, but it did nothing if not worsen his current mood. "No." he breathed out. "I… yes, it is. I don't even know why I'm feeling like this."

Frowning at him, but offering a calming smile, Callie pressed a little. "What do you mean?"

"It feels like the more I invest, the more I work for something, the more I actually try, the more I just… mess it up." Owen breathed out, chuckling sadly when he recognized this process all too well. "I did it with Cristina. I pushed in the wrong direction and we ended up a continent apart."

Callie arched one of her perfect eyebrows. "So, this is about your mystery woman, not really Iraq."

Owen shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. Actually, he would have loved to bounce ideas off Callie, to have her honest opinion and her personal estimate of how big a mess he was making of his life at the moment. Problem was, he couldn't explain the Amelia situation when he barely understood it himself. "Not entirely. It's more of a general feeling about my life as it is."

Ignoring his slightly self pitying tone, Callie opted for a slight change of subject. "You made a decision? About Iraq?" and when Owen nodded blankly, she knew she didn't have to ask what it was he'd decided. "Oh."

"If you want to lecture me, please refrain. I had enough of that already." He muttered defensively.

Callie looked down, she had intended to do just that. Not lecture per se, more like make a list, a really long list, of reasons she thought he was making a mistake. Obviously he hadn't take the decision lightly and he had apparently already got an earful – probably the same she was about to give him – on why he should stay. "Nope. I was going to tell you a story. One you probably already know, but bear with me, will you?"

Owen nodded numbly, feeling like he knew what the story was, in a nutshell. "It involves a blonde peds surgeon running and hiding in Africa. The circumstances were different, but I'm sure you remember what happened then. She has a habit of running when things get hard. When it gets difficult and requires a certain degree of vulnerability she runs. She ran to Malawi."

"Callie, that was completely different." Owen sighed, not really interested in hearing the undoubtedly annoying morale of this story. "I'm not running."

With just a look she effectively communicated just what she thought of that statement. "Owen, I'm not trying to talk you into one thing or the other. Really, I'm honestly trying to be supportive of whatever it is you want, but I'm not all that sure you do know what it is that you want. Specifically."

"What is it?"

"If you let me finish the story," Callie scolded gently. "you might get my point." Owen nodded doing his best at hiding just how much he didn't want to listen. "What I was saying is that all that time spent running is wasted time. I had a hard time dealing with Arizona coming back, it really wasn't all rainbows and unicorns."

Owen shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Callie I don't really have anything to… to come back to. That's the point. I really have nothing holding me back."

"Doesn't sound like that when you talk." Callie reasoned, not letting him win. "Owen. Sound like you're running from something – someone, actually."

He took a deep breath, looking away, feeling another jolt of guilt ignite him. She had been clear enough and that meant he should stop feeling like that. Years and years and he still insisted on being in full control of his feelings. "What if I'm running from myself?"

Catching the feeble attempt at escaping the question, Callie shook her head sympathetically. "When you figure out how to do that, give me a call. Now that you mention it, though, have you thought about when you'll be back? I don't mean to bring you down, but I was there. I saw it. You weren't okay, I don't really want to see you like that again."

Sighing, not wanting to go off on Callie for being his friend, Owen took a moment to calm himself down. "I had a run in with Shepherd already and he expressed not so subtly his opinion on this already. I appreciate that he would even worry, but it's not his concern, none of this is."

"Are you sure his wasn't a big brother concern?" Callie smirked until she realized what had just slipped out. While her eyes grew wide, Owen seemed not to have noticed.

"In part, but it still isn't his place to worry about that anyway. Wait… how do you…" Owen trailed off, glad for the chance to divert and maybe finally get the insight he really craved and not a lecture. Feeling his resolve crumble, Owen shook his head, his eyes falling down to his upturned palms in his lap. "Doesn't matter."

Callie smiled and nudged him, trying to get his attention. "Of course it does."

"No." Owen insisted. "It doesn't. She wants a change."

A frown was once again creasing Callie's face. Owen's unusually contorted thinking was beginning to be a little too hard to follow. "She said what? Exactly, her words, I mean."

"She's tired of her life as it is, wants it to change. Can't blame her, really." Muttered Owen, never looking up. "She's right."

Callie stared at him. "What do you think she means with that, though?"

Owen looked up at Callie, feeling like she was being a little dense on purpose, he recognized the woman way of dragging information out of him and he realized he really had no patience for it. "Isn't it obvious?"

Sensing the underlining irritation, she backed down a little, prepared to attack the problem from another angle. "What do you want it to mean? And yes – it does matter." She interrupted him before he could try to stop her again.

"I don't even know." Owen breathed out, feeling defeated at the amount of truth in those few words. "The only thing keeping me from signing up was to… Callie, it's not about Amelia or not Amelia, but I thought we – I thought we had a chance to build something and I pushed her and she ran. She wants a change, she doesn't want me. I want a change too."

Callie nodded sadly, the situation sounded a lot more complicated than what Meredith had painted it out to be. There were two lonely people hurting and for once she was a little at loss at what to do. "What does she think about you going to Iraq?" she asked, but when she noticed Owen's jaw clenching again and his eyes darting the opposite direction of her, Callie groaned. "Owen. Why didn't you tell her?"

He just shook his head, shrugging, avoiding saying_ I don't know_, all over again, admitting that he was losing grip on his life entirely.

"Can I outline what's going on for you?" Owen turned to her, wanting to say no, but she never let him answer. "You two were together and you had expectations and instead of talking about it, you assumed she wanted the same and, when she felt pressured, you let her run. Now, you're running. The thing is, you're not giving her a chance to chase after you like this. It's not fair."

"I told you, she doesn't want that." Owen repeated with less and less emotion, as if it wouldn't hurt as much if he didn't really care.

Callie shook her head vehemently at him. "No, she said she wants a change! Unless you neglected to tell me, Amelia never said she doesn't want you."

Owen sighed. "As I said, it doesn't matter. I'm leaving in four days, it wouldn't change a thing if I told her now."

"It would." As Owen scoffed at her gentle remark, Callie insisted with more vigor. "Look, I won't even pretend to know everything that happened, but if she walks in one day and someone tells her you've left for Iraq, how do you think she'll feel? How do you think she'll feel when you come back? Let me enlighten you, because I've been there, she's going to be hurt. She'll be hurt that you didn't tell her, not that you've gone necessarily, but you didn't tell her. If you care about her, tell her."

Biting the inside of his cheek Owen looked down again. "I don't want to hurt her."

"Yeah, well, there really is no way out of that now. Go for minimal damage."

Owen then nodded. He wasn't at all convinced Callie was right, when he heard the words, she made a lot of sense, but he knew he'd never be able to go up to Amelia and tell her he was leaving and possibly never coming back. She was going to be devastated. If he left without telling her, she'd hate him, but at least it wouldn't hurt as much having him tell her face to face. Owen was well aware everyone was giving him their piece of mind and lecturing him because they cared and – on a hunch – even Cristina would tell him he was being an idiot for going down there again. Amelia never knew that Owen, the Owen who suffered from flashbacks and nightmares, the Owen who was riddled with PTSD, the Owen shadowed by the disorder. He didn't want her to. There was also a small voice, screeching from the back of his head, taunting him, repeating over and over that Amelia wouldn't care that he'd be gone, she'd be okay with it. That would hurt and Owen was in no shape to be hurt like that, subconsciously he was choosing to hurt her instead.


	13. Thirteen

**Better late than never, uh?**

**So, if you follow me on tumblr you probably know of my mishaps with my computer/keyboard/studying/being sick, if you don't you should and well, now you know - meaning, it took a while to write this, but I did. **

**Admittedly, this isn't the best and part of the reason it took so long is because I was really excited about what comes after and this is sort of a transition chapter that I just couldn't type out the right way. This is the best I managed. **

**However, I have a couple more ready and I'm aiming at weekly updates (if you're optimistic) at least for a little bit. I'd seriously love to know what you think of this and what you think it's going to happen, like, what the hell am I doing with this story? Don't you ever wonder? Cause I do.**

**Bye.**

* * *

Owen realized only a bit too late that what he was doing was probably illegal in several countries. Callie's words had been – quite obtrusively – swimming in his head for the last few days and all he was now able to think about was Amelia. Making the effort to put himself in her shoes he'd felt the genuine meaning of his friend's words and realized the sensible thing to do was inform Amelia he was leaving. Actually, he'd considered making a big announcement, big enough that she would have to be there, without bordering on too big. He'd let her know without telling her, that way she would know.

Chicken.

His mind was screaming at him. Chicken, chicken, chicken. After all, what were they even? Not really friends, ex-something, ex-lovers, not even an ex-couple – not as far as he knew. Never been on a date, never cared to disclose whatever it was between them, never even talked about anything really. Yet, he felt drawn to her like a freaking magnet and he had no idea why. Despite its ups and downs his relationship with Cristina had always made much more sense to him. If they were nothing, then he should just tell her – at least so that Callie would shut up about it – be done with it, but he couldn't.

He'd been stalking her.

For days even. Ever since those words had settled, not letting him sleep and, when he did sleep, all he saw was Amelia crying that day in the on call room. Waking up in cold sweat left along deep purple circles under his eyes that, thanks to his fair skin, he couldn't hide. At first, he'd thought the simplest way to make it all go away was to actually talk to Amelia, tell her he'd decided to go back to the warzone, that he would be coming back, that he hoped her life would change just the way she wanted it to. If he was brave enough, he would even ask just what kind of change she was going for, but that was pushing it.

She had already left when he'd decided that, so Owen had let out a big, tortured breath and had gone on with his shift, silently grateful for it. At four days from his departure, he felt like he had all the time in the world to have a short exchange of words with her. The next day they operated together, Amelia and Callie were working on the patient's spine, while he was trying to stop the man from bleeding out. The small conversation during the seven hours they were in there, put the small part in the saying. Callie was hinting at Owen's life in the army and Owen was offering short responses, while Amelia was nodding mutely from time to time, looking up to stare inquisitively at Owen when Callie wasn't looking. As soon as they scrubbed out, he was paged and left. Waking up and glancing at the calendar made something twist inside his chest. Two days.

Owen had followed Amelia around most of the day, making sure to work on the same trauma, avoiding getting roped into surgery, bumping into her as she waited for the head CT of their patient, sitting next to her at lunch with a lame excuse that he didn't want to sit with the interns. Amelia had smiled, shrugging, offering feeble words of agreement with a quirked eyebrow and a small frown. It wasn't until later that she confronted him about turning into her shadow today and it was then that Owen found out he made a magnificent impression of a fish. The longer he stood there with a gaping mouth and twitchy eyes, the more Amelia got angry and annoyed at his behaviour, eventually storming out of the supply closet she dragged him into.

"Last day, uh?"

Owen turned up abruptly, worrying for a second that someone out there was able to read his mind. "What?"

Callie and Meredith had just sat at his table, his quiet, lonely and miserable table. "You're leaving tomorrow, right?" asked Callie.

"Yeah." Owen breathed, feeling the sudden pressure of Meredith's eyes on him. She hadn't said a word to him about this, but as both Callie and Derek knew, he figured she did as well. Calling it cold shoulder was a bit much, but Owen knew that Meredith Grey was mad at him. Other than Amelia, the only other person that he had wanted to talk about this but hadn't was Cristina.

Entirely oblivious to the unspoken conversation with Meredith Callie was smiling and keeping her word about supporting him, despite she had voiced too her fears and concerns and the fact that going away now was downright idiotic. "How are you feeling? Excited? Anxious?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Owen offered a half smile. "I guess so. I still don't know where I'm going, so excited fits. Also, Teddy says hi. She called me this morning."

"Oh, I miss Teddy!" Callie's smile broadened. She was apparently blind to Meredith's ice gaze. "Tell her to come visit some time! I would, but I think Arizona got to keep her in the divorce."

A bitter smile made it to Meredith's face at Callie's half hearted joke, but when her eyes made their way back to Owen's, he felt chills going down his spine. "I will, but she said Germany is pretty great, I doubt it will be easy to get her back here."

Also, her husband had died here – Owen omitted that because he was sure they all remembered that clearly enough. Someone's pager went off and Callie left in a hurry. Owen wished his own pager would give him an excuse to leave as well. He and Meredith had never been friends, barely got along, but never in the few years he'd known her he'd felt like he did now. She wasn't saying a word, quietly eating, glancing up at him from time to time and she might as well have been shouting that it would feel the same.

When her eyes met his for the briefest moment, he saw the Meredith that had stared angrily at him after he'd strangled Cristina or when he'd lashed out about the abortion or during any time Meredith Grey had felt it was her place to tell him what to do with Cristina. According to Amelia, Meredith had managed to butt in in their… thing, as well. Regardless, Owen didn't feel angry or irritated – he had, at that time – he felt guilty. The guilt was resurfacing from the deepest abyss, somewhere he'd buried it in the hope to never have to face it again, yet he could already see the bubbles on the surface.

Owen had no idea what it would be like coming back, _if _he was coming back at all, and the kind of life that would be expecting him. Time went by for everyone and he still had no idea how long he'd be gone precisely. Three months, he'd told Webber. That was the length of these training sessions, twelve weeks plus one week of debriefing and tying up loose ends. We'll see, he'd told Teddy after she'd mentioned there was more than one tour and they could really use someone like him down there – in a more permanent sense, she'd meant. Considering he was literally losing the reins of his life, spinning out of his control, a change as radical as that might have not been such a bad idea.

When Owen looked back up, Meredith was openly staring at him. He shook his head and raised his eyebrows questioningly and she smiled. "You don't look excited."

With a deepening frown and narrow eyes, Owen pulled a face that was supposed to be confident and hard, but he'd never been all that good at poker anyway. "I am."

"Okay." She smiled again. "Whatever."

"Meredith, just say it." Owen breathed feeling a little suffocated by her.

She shrugged, chewing on her apple slice, looking down. "I was just wondering." As Owen's eyes bore into her Meredith swallowed and fixed her eyes on him for a moment before speaking again. "You weren't okay – when you came back the last time, you weren't okay. You were lucky, but you weren't okay. So, I was wondering why you'd choose to go back down there."

Owen looked away. Of all the people he didn't want to discuss this with, Meredith was probably at the top or up there anyway. She was Cristina's best friend, Amelia's sister-in-law and someone who really just wasn't his fan. "Look, I didn't take the decision lightly. I thought about long and hard. I remember what happened, if it hadn't been for Cristina… I owe a lot to her. She really pulled me through back then, I haven't forgotten."

"Cristina isn't here anymore." Meredith stated with a calm and plain voice and Owen sighed. It didn't sound like an accusation.

He shook his head. "No and I won't lean on her. She's moved on and I respect that."

Meredith tilted her head and Owen wanted to scream at how composed she looked. Thinking about leaving tomorrow had him sweating and twitching and she was just sitting there, eating her apple. "You moved on too, but I guess my question was, who are you going to lean onto this time?"

Amelia.

It was what popped in both heads as soon as the words left her mouth. Owen cursed himself for it. The main reason he was going was because of her, because she made him believe he had a chance at something when he really didn't – false hope was more painful than no hope. Amelia had been clear and unknowingly made the decision for him. Owen cursed himself for not being able to tell her, because that spoke for itself.

Meredith knew that too. Her bright eyes told him she knew, he was an open book and it only took a brief look into his eyes to know. "Does she know?"

_Nope_. Shaking her head disapprovingly, she traced the edge of the last apple slice with her finger – Owen was officially having a little trouble breathing. Bouncing ideas off Callie was one thing, but Meredith was practically Amelia's sister and Cristina's Siamese twin. "She deserves to know. Cristina too."

"Yeah." Owen breathed.

Just like that, Meredith was gone as well. Owen's table was quiet again, it felt a little lonelier than before and it was definitely more miserable. Soon enough, the hauntingly blissful quiet was broken by his own pager going off and, for once, Owen welcomed the interruption.

Politrauma. Man versus speeding car. Man was losing. His job was to make sure man would win, at whatever cost, but it wasn't looking like today he would succeed. Actually, Owen was winning today, but it wasn't a one man feat. Amelia kept huffing from behind his head, not able to stop his brain from bleeding and more tissue to die. When he'd walked in the trauma room Derek had been there and Owen's heart had skipped a beat. In hindsight it was probably because it had taken him a second too long to decide whether he was relieved that it wasn't Amelia or disappointed. When he'd walked into the scrub room, his heart had skipped another beat. Amelia was there. Apparently, one of Derek's patient's crashed and had to go in for an emergency repair, so Amelia had taken over here.

He was throwing glances over the body, fully aware of how pathetic he must look, but unable to stop. After a few minutes of back and forth, he caught a nurses knowing smile and looked down, grateful for the mask covering his burning face. Luckily, though, Amelia was entirely unaware of the silent conversation going on around her.

The patient was stable and the small talk exchanged in the on call room was right near depressing and Owen felt his heart beat a little faster with every passing minute, knowing he should just tell her, but when he found himself staring at her back walking out of the room, he realized he'd wasted another golden opportunity.

Yet, his disappointment was nothing compared to when he finally changed and was ready to leave and Callie told him Amelia had left early, courtesy of Derek. Derek who probably thought Amelia might want to spend more time with Owen before he had to board on his flight to Frankfurt, only Amelia had no idea he would and, for the first time, Owen wondered if she actually would want to be with him or not. Maybe that was it, maybe he wasn't ready to see the look on her face when he told her, maybe he wasn't ready to handle her reaction. He definitely wasn't ready to see that she didn't care at all that he was leaving – she was making an effort to move on, change her life, and so was he, but the hard truth was that he wanted, needed, her to have a reaction. He needed her to still care.

It was just before dinner when Amelia made it home. Derek had awkwardly forced her to let him cover the rest of her shift saying she had covered most of his nights for the last week or so and she deserved a break. It made sense, but she knew her brother enough to know that he was lying through his teeth – actually, not lying per se, it was just a distortion of the truth. The sceptical and competitive side of her stomped her foot and insisted she stay, fearing he'd caught whiff of some awesome tumor or incoming head trauma and wanted it all for himself, then the rest of her succumbed to several sleepless nights and let out a big yawn. She'd get the next awesome tumor.

Even so, as soon as Amelia set foot inside the house she met Meredith's gaze and fell into another circle of confusion. She wasn't angry to see her home, she was just… surprised. Surprise often turned to anger when she just said Derek was staying late and she'd come home because she was tired.

"You're tired." Meredith echoed her words as if she was missing something, the longer this monosyllabic conversation went on, the more Amelia felt she was the one missing something.

With a casual shrug she made her way to her room, ignoring Meredith's panicky eyes and twitchy eyebrows, noting the more pronounced lines on her face were a dead giveaway that – for some reason obscure to Amelia – she was angry, as in, frighteningly angry.

Deciding not to care, Amelia retreated to her room, gently closing the door behind her, resisting the urge to lock it. Today had been officially exhausting and emotionally draining. Owen was still following her around like a lost puppy and avoiding her the second she turned and looked for him. It had been endearing at first, then annoying, now she just wanted to know what the hell was going on with him.

The whole time she had been digging into the patient brain today, she'd felt his eyes on him. Amelia had made a point to keep her head down and concentrate on the bloody mess in front of her, but she just knew. Whenever Owen's eyes landed on her she felt a familiar warmth spreading through her, it felt safe and homey, like a hug. She'd wracked her brain the past few days trying to figure out his strange behaviour, but she'd come up empty and resorted to relish in the stolen glances and stalking habit he'd taken up.

Letting the warm water soak in her tight shoulders and tired back, Amelia felt her head go blank. It was such a refreshing feeling after the last few weeks to be able to block it all out, to finally take a break. The only focus was her breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. Slow and steady, relaxed, she ever felt her heartbeat soften in her ears. As she regain focus she took the opportunity to cover her daily checklist of things to fix in her life only instead of a box to tick there something more of a progress bar. So far she'd moved back in – because finding her own place was at the bottom – made up with Derek and was on the way of forgiving him, she was still sober – which was more of a reminder, no progress bar, just crosses to count. It was good – good enough. The overachiever in her, the one who graduated top of her class at Harvard, deemed this result as barely satisfactory, but she had learned in recovery that setting a lot of little goals was preferable in her condition and she wasn't about to question it.

Next item on the list was Owen. Actually, it was ostracizing whatever it was that made her a chronic runner, but that might not be a possibility, if Derek was still struggling, she probably wouldn't have a chance. Closure with Owen, whatever that meant. Getting back together, moving on from each other – Amelia had no idea what was going to happen there, after all, she'd been the one to screw everything up. Truth was, no matter how long, no matter how far, she often found herself thinking of him and going back to him. She'd learned not to overthink her feelings a long time ago and she certainly wasn't about to start now, but regardless, Amelia needed to know where they stood with each other.

There was time for that. One day at the time – one _minute _at the time.

Slipping into loose sweatpants and a cotton shirt Amelia made her way out of the bathroom, hearing Bailey's giggles so loud she found herself smiling. She'd missed the little ones during those weeks she'd spent away. She threw her hair haphazardly in a ponytail and made her way out to the living room.

Bailey and Zola were definitely excited to have their Auntie Amy back and – despite having more experience at containing giggles – Amelia was just as glad. So glad, she spent an hour playing with the two of them on the ground while Meredith heated up something for dinner, much to Meredith's relief.

"You seem better." Meredith stated as the two of them made their way around each other cleaning up.

Amelia shrugged, not knowing if she was indeed better and not wanting to get into that conversation. "I guess."

Obviously sensing her reluctance, Meredith steered the conversation in another direction. "You know Derek was happy the other day. He told me you talked to him and… he was just really happy."

The automatic, polite smile on Amelia's face turned to horror in a couple seconds, as she realized Meredith and Derek must have talked about that. "Relax." Smirked Meredith. "He wouldn't betray your confidence and neither would I."

"Okay." Amelia nodded, wishing she could get out of this fast, but being elbow deep in dishwater made it nearly impossible.

"I know you didn't tell him." Meredith said casually as she took the dish from Amelia, drying it and putting it back into the cupboard behind her. "I just… He's really proud of you, when you're ready, he'll be there for you."

Amelia kept scrubbing for a few seconds, lost in the motions, desperate to distract herself because she'd felt the familiar burn in her throat and her vision was blurring with every passing moment. She wouldn't cry in front of Meredith, she wouldn't cry at all. Not tonight, hopefully, not in the near future.

"Have any plans tonight?" asked Meredith, drying the one of the glasses, as Amelia unplugged the sing and wrapped her arms in a towel. Amelia's brows furrowed defensively and she just shrugged. "Tomorrow's your day off."

Amelia smirked darkly. "Yeah, I heard there's a raccoon rave somewhere deep into the woods, thought I'd check it out. No wolves allowed, so hey, we're safe."

Meredith couldn't help herself and chuckled at the easy joke, but felt something twist in her gut. _Damn it, Owen_. "Right."

"I think my plans include sleeping as long as I can, eat and then nap." Amelia sighed, tossing the towel on the counter, leaning her back into it, enjoying the pressure on her lower back.

"Oh, I like your plans. Wanna trade with my colostomy?"

Wrinkling her nose Amelia shook her head fervently. "Ew. No, never, that's so gross."

Meredith, feigning indignation at Amelia's protests swatted at her playfully with the half soaked rag. "Hey, don't knock it. After all, you're a board certified general surgeon too."

Holding her chin up, Amelia smiled before declaring. "Yeah, well, that was a necessary step to get to the good stuff."

"Whatever." A rag swat later, the joke was no more. Smiles were still all around, but Meredith couldn't have let it go any further, apparently not specializing in neuro was still a somewhat open wound.

Luckily, hey didn't have time to wallow on what had transpired in those few seconds, because Derek came barrelling through the door, startling the both of them. His overly smiley face landed on his wife, but as he realized she wasn't alone the smile faded and utter confusion took over. Frowning, he put away his coat and bag, toeing off his shoes and rolling up his sleeves, before he made his way to the counter.

"Hey there, my favorite girls." He smiled as Amelia responded with a childish _ew_ at the overly sugary affection and Meredith leaned over the counter kissing him, muttering something about not letting Zola hear this.

"She's my favorite little girl, unless either of you prefers that title." He said flashing once more his million watt smile.

"I think that might be illegal in some states." Amelia deadpanned as Meredith burst out laughing.

Shaking his head in mock disapprovement at his little sister, Derek let the frown come back over. "Hey, what are you doing still here?"

"What do you mean _still _here?" Amelia asked as confusion mixed with a sliver of worry. "Here in your house?" As Derek's frown deepened, Amelia looked at Meredith who was pointedly looking at her husband, shaking her head. "Oh, you mean the raccoon rave? Think I'm going to pass this time, they promised me tickets for the next one, though."

When Derek didn't laugh, but instead looked a little mad, Amelia felt at loss. "What even…" Meredith was shaking her head so head beside her, but Derek seemed oblivious to whatever it was supposed to mean. "I thought you'd be with Owen."

Meredith sighed. At least she'd tried. She'd promised Owen she'd talk to him about telling Amelia he was going back to the army and, not only she'd failed, but Owen had chickened out as well. She had not had a chance to tell him that yet – well, it was no use now. There wasn't a good enough excuse to keep Amelia from finding everything out now, one way or the other.

"Why would I be with Owen?" Amelia chocked on her laughter, voice laced with an atypical tremble.

A few minutes too late Derek looked over at Meredith with questioning, murderous eyes. As she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, Derek's jaw tightened. "He's leaving. Tomorrow."

Amelia frowned, disbelief washing over her. "What do you mean he's leaving?"

"He's going back to the army." He said plainly, despite Meredith's glare urging him not to.

Oh, denial. Amelia was still half laughing, half trying to figure out just what her brother was telling her. "What? Is this a joke? You know, it's really not funny – and, if this is a ploy just to get me to talk to him, it's not going to work. Owen would have told me."

"No." Meredith interjected. "Owen _should_ have told you."

"I don't believe you guys." Amelia chocked out a laugh, feeling her insides twist suddenly at Meredith's tone. "I'm sorry, you're awful and this is a really bad prank."

Derek reached out for her. "Amy-"

"No!" Amelia pulled away, her eyes darting between her brother and Meredith. "If that were true I would know – come on, everyone would know at the hospital."

"Amelia." Meredith called quietly, knowing Derek's approach would never work. "Amelia, this is not a joke. He didn't tell us, he didn't tell everyone at the hospital. Callie told me and I told Derek."

Amelia's eyes bulged out. "Why didn't you tell me too?"

Meredith shrugged, maybe that would have been a better idea. "I told him to tell you. Derek and Callie did as well."

As her shoulders dropped Amelia looked at them feeling discouraged and still not entirely convinced of the truth of all this. There was no way Owen would leave and not tell her, just no way. What was she supposed to do the next time she asked someone at the hospital if they had seen him and she'd find out then he was in some godforsaken warzone. If she decided to leave, she would tell him. Or would she?

Suddenly it all came crashing down on her. She took a step away from Meredith, turning her back to them and pressing her hands to her forehead, willing her brain to work faster – actually, at the moment she just wished it would work at all.

It made no sense. "Is it true?" she asked, facing them after a handful of seconds. "Is he really leaving?"

Derek nodded sadly, unable to mask his reaction seeing his own sister begin to crumble. He made a move to reach out to her, but he felt Meredith's hand stop him. "He is."

Amelia nodded in return, sniffling quietly as she looked down at her feet for a moment.

She had no claim over him. No reason to expect him to hold her in a privileged position in his life, nothing. They slept together, made out in on call rooms a few times, had some good talks, but in the end, nothing else was there. No relationship, no dates, no talking about their feelings – if there were ever any feelings to talk about. _Idiot._ Since the incident with Derek, Amelia had vowed to make things right in her life and that included Owen, but apparently, it wasn't the same for him.

"Okay." Amelia muttered quietly, biting her lip. "Goodnight, then."

Without another word, she walked to her room, gently closing the door behind her. She was angry, fuming, furious, absolutely mad at the man leaving across the clear in that tiny, impractical tin box. She was getting there, getting to the point where she was ready for him – for any relationship. It was probably incredibly egotistical of her to put a stop to it until she was ready and expect nothing to have changed, but when they'd talked over her boxes in the parking lot, she'd felt it, the connection, and stupidly thought he'd felt it as well. What hurt wasn't Owen conveniently forgetting to tell her, maybe it wasn't even about her he only told a few people, no, what hurt was how she felt her insides turn at the thought that he was going away.

"Amelia." Derek knocked on her door, interrupting her inner tirade. "Can I come in?"

Before she had time to think, she was walking to the door, opening it with a little too much force, looking up at her brother innocently. "Yes?"

He frowned at her high voice and feigned control, he knew it the moment he saw it. Denial. "What are you doing?" as Amelia frowned and pursed her lips in confusion, Derek sighed. "Go talk to him. Go say goodbye."

"He didn't talk to me. Obviously, he doesn't care if I say goodbye or not." Amelia sneered, tilting her head as if daring Derek to have a good enough response to that.

He just shook his head. "He is scared."

"Well, if he was scared he shouldn't have agreed to go, again, not my problem." Amelia retorted, an irritating smile planted on her face partly to anger Derek enough so that he would finally leave her alone to break down in the solitude of her room.

"He's not scared of going, he's scared of leaving." Derek frowned at his own statement, wondering suddenly if Meredith was momentarily possessing him – that was such a girl thing to say. "I don't… I don't think he's entirely convinced about going, but that's just me."

Amelia felt warmth spread through her chest. It felt like hope, but quickly turned into anxiety. "So? What do I have to do about it? Because the way I see it, he doesn't care what I think."

"Go talk to him. Go day good luck - I don't know Amy - go tell him to go to hell for all I care, but go see him before he leaves."

Then it went quiet again. Derek wasn't sure whether he'd overdone it or he'd hit the spot, giving stubborn Amy the push she needed. Amelia was still staring at him, looking a bit dazed and a bit lost, eyes darting from his to her feet and back up to his.

"Why are you pushing me to him? We broke up a while ago, Derek, let it go." She hissed under her breath, looking away from him, worried he might just see how big of a lie this was. "I have."

Derek took a deep breath and looked at her, from Amelia's reaction he could tell he'd been able to use his 'dad face' as she called it – the one with which he was able to guilt her into most things, Mom's birthday in New York, for instance. "You have not. If you had, you would have texted him and smiled and wished him good sleeps in tents and warned him not to eat too much sand – Amy, I know you."

So much for trying to hide it. Amelia turned and hastily grabbed her sneakers, slipping them messily on her feet. "Fine." she through her teeth. "I'll go wish him loads of sand sandwiches and whatever other crap, so that maybe-" she brushed past him walking briskly to the door. "you'll finally be convinced that – like he demonstrated so perfectly – there is nothing and ever will be anything there."

Meredith jumped a little as the front door slammed and turned to glare at Derek. She'd insisted to go and talk to Amelia, but he had claimed to know her better and therefore be the better suited one for that conversation. Raising an eyebrow at him, she just waited as he hung his head a little.

"Well." He said, wringing his hands. "That was a success, wasn't it?"

Unable to keep a smile off her face, despite the seriousness of the situation, she shook her head at him. "Oh, shut up. She went to talk to him, that was the point, right?"

"Yeah," Meredith shrugged. "Though, I think she's going to go for bodily harm, not words."


	14. Fourteen

**This was supposed to be a more comprehensive chapter, but it ended up a few thousand words too long and I had to split it, so the _good_ part is still to come. Meaning, it's totally ready, but I'm waiting at least until next week to post, so that hopefully I can work on a little more and avoid these month-long dry spells (writing a multi chap is no joke, fellas).**

**Let me know what you thinks peeps! Seriously. And if you wanted tears and super romantic gestures from Owen, you should probably leave this page and go read _Vanished_, just sayin. **

**ALSO if you sent me a PM here I haven't seen it, I get the email, but there's something wrong with the inbox thingy and so, if you want to write me please do so on tumblr.**

**AND I have decided to post multichaps only here and not on tumblr anymore, cos it's easier for browsing I guess, so just maybe set up alerts and whatever.**

**Also, today marks one year since I posted the first chapter, so happy birthday lwo.**

* * *

It was only after she knocked that Amelia realized maybe taking a couple minutes to settle herself wouldn't be such a bad idea. She was standing in front of the door of the trailer, trembling from rage and shivering from the chilly air that made her skin feel like it was just about ready to peel off. Leaving the house in a flimsy cotton top, equally light pants and sneakers was, in hindsight, quite the idiotic move - not to mention her sneakers were now drenched in dew and mud and whatever else she'd managed to stomp on, on her way there. Also, the extra inch dragging along at the end of her pants was still likely dripping on her shoes and socks to add insult to injury. She didn't have her keys nor her phone and Amelia felt like her own dignity was desperately trying to break free and escape this situation.

Her own anger was the only thing keeping her warm, but there was no way she could come off as the bigger person. Soaked half in mud and other wonderful earthly slimes, the other half trembling like a leaf on a windy day, to top it all off, no make up and air dried hair thrown in a hair tie as it was.

The extra ten seconds it was taking Owen to open up were long enough for doubt and fear to sneak up on her and kick anger away, settling in comfortably inside her. As she heard a noise on the other side of the door, Amelia felt like running. With absolutely no idea what she was doing there or what she was going to say to him once he would finally open the damn door, Amelia felt a little lost.

From the look on Owen's face, when he finally made it to the tiny metal door, he was feeling just as lost – with the addition of confused, guilty and sad. By that point, though, Amelia was not looking at him, noticing that right now was being a difficult bunch of seconds for the both of them. As soon as Owen opened the door her eyes had rushed in, taking in the mess inside and the army uniform carefully laid on the little sofa along with his bag nearby.

He was leaving.

He was really actually leaving. Meredith and Derek were right. She should have believed them and yet, for some reason, all the way here she'd found herself wishing it was all a cruel joke ad they'd laugh about it in a few years, maybe over dinner, maybe at their wedding or maybe looking at their baby sleeping - there was nothing to laugh about now. Amelia had managed to desperately hold onto the hope that it was just a plot to get them together in the same place because there wasn't a bone in her body that believed that Owen would really leave, go back to the army, possibly never come back, and not tell her. Yet, he managed to surprise her today.

Amelia hated surprises with a passion.

Owen took a step back, leaning on one side of the tiny space, motioning her to come inside, shaking the slightest bit when she hesitated on the door, but eventually shutting it after her. Amelia walked two, maybe three steps into the trailer, feeling like her head was under water, unable to properly connect with the world around her. Warmth spread on her chest, burning her skin, her heart beating so fast it felt like it was right about to pop out of her ribcage and her trembling hands carefully clasped together to avoid showing any signs of how big of a mess she was on the inside.

The fact that Owen had carefully avoided telling her, when he had spent days following her around like her own shadow, made her anger swell and her judgement cloud. He'd had a million chances to mention it and nothing, not one word, not a hint that tomorrow he wouldn't be there. A part of her was starting to calm down, reasoning that she'd been the one to end things, to keep him at a distance and he had no obligation to tell her this now, so she had no right to be mad – rationally speaking anyway. However, Amelia hastily shushed that shrilly voice in her head and looked around once more, from the half empty closet, to the few items piled on the table – phone, cables, passport and keys, feeling dread rise inside her, gripping her gut tightly.

"Going somewhere?" she asked with a calm and composure she wasn't sure she could muster up, looking casually up at him, as if she'd just stumbled to the trailer randomly that night.

Her eyes betrayed her, though. In fact, when the words left her mouth, Owen looked away. Her hard gaze and steel blue eyes made his head bow down in shame, because while she might have controlled her voice, he'd felt it all. The anger, the betrayal, the way she felt like she was about to burst.

With the slightest nod, Owen looked around, scratching the back of his head, while leaning into the counter by the sink. "You know."

It wasn't a question and it wasn't an affirmation, he wasn't sure if she did or whether Meredith or Derek had sent her here under false pretences. By the way Amelia looked ready to tear him in two, Owen knew she must have known.

"No, I don't know." Amelia snorted, wrapping her arms around herself. "I had no idea."

Owen remembered the words he'd spoken to Cristina too many years ago to count, _I'm not as big an ass as you think_. Not only he'd been wrong, but he never learnt his lesson. "Amelia-"

She turned to him sharply and the words died in his mouth. "No. Stop it, I don't want to hear it. You didn't have to tell me anything, we-we're not… we're nothing. Colleagues. You don't owe me anything Owen."

And that hurt. That was the reason Owen had chickened out the last minute. He could handle tears and anger and stuff thrown at him, but indifference stabbed him straight in the chest. Knowing that Amelia wouldn't lose any sleep over this made him sick. "Look, I'm sorry-"

"That you're leaving? Or that you never bothered to tell anyone but Callie?" Amelia bit the corner of her lip subconsciously, in a literal effort to bite her tongue and filter the Niagara falls of thoughts coming from her brain.

Owen shook his head, realizing just then how pathetic that sounded. He was so convinced about going back east, about getting involved again with that kind of work that he'd told one person only – well, Richard too, but he had to do that. He told Callie – actually, not even, Callie had managed to drag it out of him. Nobody else knew. Not even his mother. "I know I should have-"

Amelia was shaking her head looking down, trying to unsuccessfully hide the eye roll from him. "You should go back to packing." She said with a small, forced, lopsided smile turning to the door to leave. "It looks like you still have a lot to get done."

"No, Amelia, wait." His position in front of the door allowed him a fraction of a second of advantage over her and physically blocked her exit, trapping her in the trailer.

She was wrong. He owed her an explanation. They weren't just two people who'd hooked up a couple of times and then decided to go separate ways. He knew that and he knew that Amelia was well aware of that as well. There was more between them and the instant connection and unspoken understanding were due to trauma and pain and loss – what had drawn hem together, had driven them apart just a little while later. If Amelia was just anyone, he would have told her and they wouldn't be here.

Amelia was clearly irritated and staring in front of him, about a foot away, ready to launch for the door at his first distraction. "I should have told you. I should have told everybody that I was leaving really, but especially you."

"Why? Why would I be any different from everyone else?" the tremble in her voice was hard to hide and it disrupted the perfect rendition of her intentions – making Owen and herself believe it was fine, he was an idiot for keeping this from her, but it wouldn't change a thing. "Derek told me to come wish you not to eat too much sand or something I can't really remember, so now I'm going to go and-"

As she pushed forward, desperately trying to get past him, Owen grabbed her shoulder holding her steady where she was standing right before him. "Stop. God, Amelia, just… I'm sorry. I am sorry, okay?"

"Okay." Despite the heartfelt words, Amelia just shook her head again, still wearing the smile Owen was growing to hate, that fake, I'm falling apart but pretend I'm fine kind of smile. "Can I go then?"

"No."

She hated him for this. For making her want to stay there and hug him and tell him it was all going to be okay, because it was in his eyes. His glassy, big, cerulean blue eyes were staring at her with his typical sad and apologetic look. She knew that look so well, she'd seen that look so many times she wished she could unsee it – there was a time she'd see that look in the mirror every morning. When you know someone feels like that, when you know because you've been there, it's pretty damn hard to put everything else aside.

Her restrain was faltering, but so was her patience and Amelia knew she was hurting herself more the longer she stood in that suffocating tin can. He could go and she'd be fine – that was what she was repeating to herself and to Derek and to Owen himself all this time, maybe if she kept it on, she'd soon start to believe it as well. Amelia felt like she was looking at a dead man walking and bile rose in her throat. All the men she loved ended up dead and Owen was throwing himself right in the middle of it.

Love.

Maybe she didn't really love him, maybe that would save him. Yet, her chest felt tighter and tighter and every beat of her heart pulsed all the way through her. Maybe she did love him. Or maybe not.

"Owen," she started, her voice no longer controlled and steady, laced with fear and panic, shaking and trembling. "Owen, I need to go."

She pushed against him, wanting to get to the door and run away, far away from him and from his army uniform staring at her with a sly grin from the sofa. "Please, Owen, let me go."

Pushing on his chest and trying to move his mass from her escape to safety was the only thing she could do, but there was no way that was going to work. The more Owen resisted silently, the more force Amelia put in her actions, until she reached her maximum strength. Her head fell and her body recoiled and Amelia stood back, completely and utterly defeated.

"I'm sorry." Owen soothed as she pulled away from him, giving up on her attempt to flee. "I am sorry."

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek, feeling that pull again, to just walk up to him and hug him, overly annoyed at that instinct. "Okay. I get it. It's fine."

Owen shook his head in disbelief and frustration. "No, Amelia." He insisted, dragging out the vowels in her name in that way only he did. "It is not fine. I have to… I need-I need to explain. I owe you that much."

"You don't owe me anything." Amelia took a moment to compose herself before she started yelling at him that, while she was fighting and working so hard on keeping herself together and moving forward, he was freaking leaving to work in a warzone. "I just… I just wanted to say good luck."

The lie wasn't hidden nearly as well as she'd hoped, but for that reason, Amelia hoped he would just drop it and let her have her breakdown in the privacy of her room. Catching his eye and noting that he was distracted enough, she gave it another go. The second her hands made contact with his chest, however, time stopped.

Amelia just pressed enough that he'd know to move and let her leave, yet, the second she'd touched him, his own hand made it up to hers, capturing it in his own and squeezing it tightly, her resolve to retreat and lick her wounds slowly vanishing. As the moment of shock passed, Amelia got her bearings back and looked up at him shyly, chewing on her bottom lip, not entirely sure what to do with her hand. The touch was familiar, more than she would have expected after such a long time apart and it did things to her. His grasp was stronger the longer she left her hand in his, as if growing steadily more confident and she let him because Amelia was completely at loss of what to do there, so, instead of reacting she let her hand relish in the searing warmth of his.

"I'm not running away-"

"I didn't think-"

"Wait." Owen stopped her, raising his other hand in front of her. "I'm not, I… I need this. Everything I do feels wrong and – and I need to leave." and there was nothing holding him back, not actively at least.

Amelia nodded curtly, averting his gaze carefully. He _needed _to leave. As in he couldn't stay. Her heart swelled painfully and her nose hitched, eyes burning with tears she was determined not to shed in his presence. "I understand."

In the brief second Amelia caught sight of him, as her eyes moved from the daunting uniform, to her soaking wet feet, to his face, relief washed over him and suddenly she was confused. Owen relaxed visibly when a second ago he was holding onto her hand like a lifeline.

"I knew you would." he smiled gratefully, at her, wrapping her hand in both of his. "I wanted something to change and this opportunity… when we talked and you told me you wanted your life to change I realized I wanted that too and-"

Amelia pulled her hand so fast from his hold it might have hurt. "What?!"

With a deep frown Owen stood a little straighter, taken aback by her sudden change and overly confused by her reaction. "You said so. You said that and I do too, Amelia, I want my life to change too. What is…"

Shaking her head, feeling a little overwhelmed with the situation, Amelia took a step back. Tears spilled from her eyes and she wiped at them hastily, before he got the wrong impression, pressing her palms to her forehead. "I can't believe you." She muttered after a handful of seconds.

"Amelia?"

Clearing her throat, hoping her eyes weren't as red and puffy as they felt, she looked up at him, careful to convey with her eyes just how angry she was right now. "Amelia?"

"I have been trying so hard to put my life together, to make it work, not to fall apart and-and you…" her voice cracked as she went on, not even bothering to think before the words came spilling out of her mouth. "Damn it, Owen."

Owen stared at her with a blank look and furrowed brows, Amelia's unexpected reaction feeding his ego and his heart, stabbing him in the gut at the same time. He took a step closer to her, but she shied away from him like same ends of a magnet.

"What is going on?" he asked gently, bordering on worried and a little apprehensive. "Amelia, what's wrong?"

Her stomach dropped and it was hard to breathe. He wanted a change to, but his change entailed leaving the country and possibly getting killed. It didn't involve her, not even close, it went about the opposite direction of where she thought of heading. World's apart and, god, it hurt. Amelia knew it should hurt this bad, her life shouldn't revolve around one person and definitely not someone like Owen, someone as broken as she was. Amelia figured James must have felt something like this when she'd gone back to LA to pack her stuff. Owen wasn't to blame, she couldn't, but her heart still skipped a bit when he gave her a comforting smile, tilting his head a little to the side. Swallowing guilt and hurt and disappointment, Amelia went for the door, this time pushing her way past a semi distracted Owen almost making it.

In fact, a couple inches from the handle, a hand wrapped gently around her wrist stopping her motions. He was standing behind her, Amelia was trapped between him and the door and she could have broken free of his hold had she really wanted to and run.

"You're not leaving. Not like this." he pulled gently on her arm, getting her to twist and face him with her body, eyes still fixed on her feet, desperate to avoid the uniform on the sofa. What she saw when she looked at him was Owen's body in a casket wearing the stupid thing. "Amelia."

She was biting her cheek so hard it hurt and it was getting harder and harder to ignore Owen's piercing gaze and wavering voice. "Nothing, it's nothing-"

"Well, it's not nothing!" he insisted, his patience wearing thin. He looked at her pointedly as her eyes made it up to his, waiting for her to explain to yell to apologize to say anything at all, really.

Amelia's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She just lost herself into his eyes, frustration and fear and loneliness swimming in there as he stared down at her. He was getting agitated, panting his chest rising and falling noticeably right before her, his skin glowing a darker pink, heat radiating from his neck up to his cheeks. Her eyes were dry and her heart skipped a beat every time his hand would graze hers casually, but Amelia was dead calm, still.

Only when her eyes dropped, feeling a little suffocated looking at him, Owen spoke. "Do you think I'm happy about it? Do you think I…" he looked up, pursing his lips as if he was going to say something, but stopped himself just before it was too late. "I didn't have a choice."

Amelia leaned back, away from him, irritated at his tone and surprised at the words she was hearing. "Of course you had a choice! Nobody forced you to go Owen, _you_ made the choice to leave. It's not on anyone else."

"Why do you think I wanted a change, uh?" his voice was now firm and it made Amelia's skin crawl. "Don't you think I wanted anything else – anything more than to go back? But I _don't _have anything. I lost my wife and I lost… I just don't have anything else keeping me here."

That was unexpected and on the how much chocolate will I need to eat after this scale, it ranked pretty high. Amelia had been telling herself he was a grown up and more than able to make his own decision and choices and she shouldn't fault him for that, she had been telling herself she'd messed things up with them because she wasn't ready and therefore she had no claim whatsoever over him.

Amelia frowned, eyes glued to the uniform laying there on his tiny grey sofa, as it stared back at her. "How does this make it better? What about when you come back? Is anything going to be different then?"

That seemed to have shocked Owen a little bit. Amelia never meant to insinuate anything, it was just her filter slipping and apparently, Owen didn't realize that.

"I don't know, you tell me." He was staring down at her expectantly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Owen shook his head, turning half way facing the sofa – facing the uniform, but maybe he hadn't meant it that way. It was Amelia's turn to be at loss. Not only she felt cornered physically, blocked into the tiny space by the door, but slowly this conversation was starting to feel like a trap, as if anything she would say would backfire and she wasn't in the opportune emotional state to be on top of that.

In a split second Owen turned back, hand balled in front of him, moving as he spoke. "We… had something. I believed in that and then you-you go and disappear. You weren't there anymore Amelia. You say you can't do it and that it hurts too much and… and we were done. I am done."

"Are you blaming me?" Her back straightened and her eyes flared with renewed energy. "Are you saying it's my fault you felt like you had to leave?"

She looked at him and he looked at her.

It was a strange, funny game of who's the most stubborn, pig headed, strong willed idiot, and they were both winning. Or losing, depending on one's perspective.

"How dare you put this on me?" Amelia seethed as she felt her chest swell. "It is your choice."

Owen raised his hands, only to let them fall back along his legs with a resounding smack. "I'm not, I don't…" he looked at her, the anger dissolving from his eyes, yet his muscles were still as tense as before. "I wanted what we had, okay? I shouldn't have, I mean, it was two weeks, maybe three, but… god, Amelia. I wanted it. And now I don't have anything."

He took a step forward, there was about a foot between her and the door and now a foot between her and Owen. She was as close to him as she was to escaping. His heavy breaths so close made it hard for her to translate her thoughts into words and her brain felt a little foggy and blurred.

Before she could respond in any way, though, he continued. "I see you, Amelia. Every day, you're at the hospital and you work, you have friends and you have Derek and Meredith, and you go home to them and Zola and Bailey and I…" he was gripping his loose cotton t-shirt right over his chest, stretching the material with his white knuckled hold.

"And you think I'm fine with that?" Amelia hissed. "For crying out loud, Owen, I have been struggling _just_ to stay above water lately and you're telling me you can't deal with the fact that I'm fine? I am not fine."

Owen's eye roll, though, set her off. "I deal with addiction every freaking day, Owen, and that is… consuming. I live with my brother and his wife because I don't trust myself to live alone – I've never lived alone, yet I should, and there's not one day that I don't feel like a gigantic failure because of that. I have my brother's job, which, despite how I've proven I can do more than well enough, every single person in that hospital still believes belongs to him. I don't have any friends here and yes, I like spending time with Zola and Bailey because my son died and I can't spend any more time with him, no matter how much I'd want to." Now she was the one panting, anger and feelings and the freaking uniform staring back at her mixing together. "Now tell me, how am I fine?"

Owen gulped, desperate to swallow the lump that formed in his throat hearing her words. "I know all of that-"

"Didn't seem like it." Amelia sneered, interrupting him.

Owen paused, clearly irritated at her tendency to cut him off. "The other day we talked or, well, you talked-"

"That's not my fault either!" she pushed back, Owen hadn't meant to attack her in any way, but Amelia was feeling vulnerable and defensive.

"Amelia!" that just about shut her up for a second. "Can I finish one goddamn phrase?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Taking in another deep breath he pitied Derek. She could be so childish it was unnerving. "You said it. You want a change and I want that too. Why are you mad at me for that?"

Owen stood shakily as his words – their words – started to seep in, settle in their minds, in their hearts, sinking in so deep. Amelia was still looking away, biting her lower lip, curled into herself as much as she could while standing. His hand flew to his face, resting on his eyes, letting them fall to the ground tiredly.

Then he heard it, it was just above a whisper and he had to look up to make sure he'd heard right. As Owen looked up, he noticed Amelia's eyes were bigger and bluer than he'd seen them in a while, in a really long while. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and some of the shorter strands of her hair had come out of her ponytail, falling messily around her face.

"I wanted a change." Amelia repeated calmly, voice steadier, eyes boring into his. "I wanted you."


	15. Fifteen

**Just for the record, I'd like to point out that this chapter has been present in my head since maybe June of last years, to give you an idea. However, the inbetween has been definitely more troublesome to get out and life hasn't certainly helped that way. Also, if you go and read my ever so boring author notes in the previous chapters you'll know this was supposed to be something like chapter twelve or thirteen, yet these characters took a hold of the story and changed my plans more than once.**

**WARNING: I wouldn't say this is M RATED material, because it isn't graphic and nowhere near smut, but you can guess by this meaningless word vomit what it is and, if you are not comfortable reading this kinda stuff you can skip it and read the next one, anything super pertinent to the story will be repeated through out the next few chapters until you're tired of hearing it.**

**I would like to add that the slight cliffhangery feeling the end gives off wasn't meant, but it's totally due to another cut due to the extensive length of this (I thought 6k workds would be enough). Next chapter should be up Friday, but it's missing the first part, so I'm actually not sure, in a week for sure.**

**Saturnina Black: **thank you! but I've never watched JAG, so I'll just take it as a compliment. also your name is black and I love the noble and ancient house of black and I could rant for an hour about it, uuugh. I wanted to say that I do put in a lot of work in my stories, this one in particular, and that's mostly the reason it takes me so long to update, I mean, typing out a chapter takes a few hours, but the thought behind it might take days or weeks or even months - I'm glad it shows a little. So, thanks.

**kaitlin1198: **wait like... three to five chapters? Is that okay?

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"I want you." She repeated again, as he didn't seem to register. "I am putting myself together to be with you – well, really to be able to _be_ with anyone at all and if that's you-"

He cut off her rant as his lips crashing against hers. It was urgent and rough, but passionate all the same. It took Amelia completely by surprise and seconds passed before she kissed him back with as much fervour. The emotional build up was amplifying all the sensations and tingles and neither one of them would have it any other way. Soon Amelia's hands found their way around his neck, one hand splayed on his cheek angling his face to have better access, and her other arm wrapped around his neck, hand holding onto his shoulder, mostly to keep him down to her level, but as her legs started to shake she was just glad he was holding her up as well. Not that she'd need to make sure of that - his arms were wrapped around her so tightly she wasn't sure she actually could leave his embrace – not that she would want to anyway.

As usual, one of his hands was cupping her cheek, fingers tangled in her hair, massaging her scalp soothingly, sending shivers all the way down her spine and all over her body. Then Amelia tilted her head, letting him in and he lost it. He walked to the door, pressing her firmly against it, dipping his knees to better reach down to her height, while his hands started running all over her body, up and down her sides, to her neck, face and then brushing against her hair gently and then back down to her hips. His large hands on her smaller body had always felt good, but he'd never done this. He managed to rub her sides and back, while his thumb kneaded the skin it passed, caressing gently as it got to the underside of her bra, earning him mewling sounds of approval.

When air became scarce Amelia turned away, trying to gulp in as much as she could, turning to the side, letting Owen trail little kisses all the way down her jaw and neck, where he stopped on her pulse point, knowing what it did to her. He remembered right. As his tongue darted out, making contact with her skin Amelia's senses went into overload, a low moan come out of her mouth, her head fell back. It was intense and mind numbing enough, but as her head hit the metal edge of the little window on the door, she suppressed a groan, hoping not to have a bump tomorrow. Those thoughts were gone as soon as one of Owen's hands slipped under her shirt coming in contact with her skin. Now, that moan she did nothing to keep under wraps.

How she'd missed this.

Apparently, the same exact thought had made its way into his brain because Owen found he couldn't wait. His hand joined the other on her back and before she had a chance to realize it, they were both dragging her shirt up her chest and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Missing the connection, she looked at him right in his eyes, he looked like he was trying to memorize every square millimetre in front of him, but Amelia had no patience for that and she pulled him back down, attacking his lips once again. The heat they were generating, however, wasn't nearly enough and, as he pressed her naked back against the door, she also started to feel the bone chilling cold coming from the shiny metal. As she turned again, trying to recapture his lips, her head banged again against the metal rim and this time Amelia couldn't stop the groan from coming out of her mouth.

Owen pulled away as soon as he heard and looked at her hesitantly. "You okay?"

His hand went up to her cheek, lovingly rubbing circles with his thumb on her cheekbone as he took her in. The hair tie had fallen off somewhere, probably due to his ministrations, and it fell messily around her face, half curled, half straight and untamed. It was the kind of hair that reminded him of when they were together, when they'd get stuck in the rain or when she'd shower in the morning. Her flushed chest and cheeks and full, red lips made his own chest tighten.

"Yeah, but the door is freezing." She smiled shyly, afraid she was going to ruin the moment and she definitely didn't want that.

With a grin, Owen leaned back down to take her lips with his and simultaneously bent his knees a little, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs, and lifted her up, making sure to hold her tight against him so that she wouldn't touch the cold metal of the door again. Without jostling her around too much, he spun on his heel and walked the one step to the counter setting her down on the edge. As soon as she was sat there, though, her legs were still wrapped tightly around his waist and her arms slipped slightly, her hands cupped his face gently.

Owen let her and waited until her next move, basking in the glowy light and her blue eyes staring deeply into his. Then, with no hurry and in a hypnotically fluid motion, her hands slid down his chest, balling in the flimsy material of his shirt, dragging it up, letting him dispose of it. As soon as the shirt was gone, her hands wrapped around his neck pulling it down to her level, lips meeting again. This time, though, when his hands wrapped around her back and squeezed her to him, there was only skin. It was electrical and their abs tensed synchronously, before relaxing into each other, into the kiss. In a flurry of movement Owen's hands on her back undid her bra, which fell forgotten to the ground.

Amelia's fingers were tangling into his hair, pulling every time his hands made it to a particular sensitive area, or when his lips made it all the way to her earlobe and to that spot right below her ear on her neck. Yet, when one of his hands dipped in the elastic of her pants, her back arched.

Owen relished momentarily in the notion that she was wearing nothing past those pants and quickly decided to let her suffer a bit as his hands kneaded firmly the skin there without straying. Amelia, though, didn't lose any time and, making the extra effort to grind against his hips in the process, she toed off her shoes with her legs still crossed around his waist. She knew she'd succeeded when Owen's hands squeezed her skin so tight it hurt - she would definitely have bruises tomorrow.

"Amelia." He panted in her mouth, as his hold eased a little.

Throwing her head back with a laugh, she nuzzled her nose back in his cheek, teeth grazing his jaw. "You started it."

As the fight for control grew more intense, Amelia pressed her chest harder and harder against him and Owen let his hands wander virtually everywhere but where she really needed them. Her hands tangled in his hair, arms wrapped around his head basically trapping him against her, her mouth working wonders as he reciprocated just as passionately.

Amelia never meant for this to happen, it certainly wasn't something she'd ever thought would happen again so soon, but she wouldn't stop now for any reason. Sex with Owen had always been mind blowing and right now was no exception. A lot of it was the size difference between the two of them she realized, his hands were big enough to almost wrap around her narrow waist completely and his chest was not a lot smaller than twice hers – _all_ of him was oversized, she mused. The height difference was a little bothersome, but manageable, and they had found ways around it. Holding herself up with her legs, Amelia raised herself off the counter a couple inches to reach him better and Owen made most of her move holding her up thanks to his hands' convenient placement in her pants.

The kiss from this angle was on a totally other level than all the previous ones. Amelia was even taller than him like this, using her legs' hold as leverage, she proceeded to continue fighting for dominance – playing dirty as she always did. She was casually pressing her body completely against Owen's ever time she'd raise a little getting all kinds of animalistic sounds from him and thus less of a fight, until he stopped fighting. Relishing in her victory, Amelia started planting soft, gentle kisses on his mouth, cheek, jaw, nose, anywhere she could reach from her superior, yet limiting position. She knew he wouldn't ease to then come on stronger and therefore let herself get lost in the moment just like he had.

Owen knew her. Owen knew her well enough – maybe too well – and knew exactly this was going to happen. No matter how strongly Amelia was wrapped completely around him, he still felt like she could slip away at any moment. His hands rubbed her back firmly a few times and, as Amelia moaned appreciatively, with a swift, precise move, they were back in her pants, this time pushing the elastic past her hips. The fact that she was no longer sitting on the counter meant he had free reign to do that, but as he made it to the top of her thighs he couldn't go any further.

As if sensing what was going on, now aware of Owen's own dirty playing, Amelia unlocked one arm from around his neck, slipping her hand behind her, placing it down on the counter. Balancing herself, she sat back down and eased her hold around his waist, unwrapping her legs just enough for him to get the hint, which he did – immediately. With a delicate tug, he let her pants fall to the floor, following them with his eyes, until they pooled by his feet. His eyes travelled up sluggishly, in no hurry for this to finish, but when he made it to her his heart skipped a bit. He'd seen her naked before plenty of times, but it felt like time stopped right then. It wasn't because she looked hot or beautiful or perfect – even though she did – it wasn't even because it had been a long time, not _that_ long, but long enough, and it wasn't because he'd been waiting for this for just as long. No, it was something else.

It was the way she was just sitting on his kitchen counter, completely naked with the faintest blush spreading over her cheeks and chest, as she bit her lip, daring him to make the next move. It was normal. So boringly normal, or that's what it felt like anyway. No make up, wild hair and no shame at all.

Owen had wanted to say something, let her know what was going on inside his head, which might not even be needed by the knowing look in her eyes, but he never got the chance to. Apparently, time had not stopped for her and she was now impatiently dragging him to her by his belt buckle. Too stunned to react, he just stood there and, by the time his hands started to move again, she was already undoing the last buttons on his jeans. In a practiced move she rid him of his clothes, pants pooling around his ankles and Owen wasted no time stepping out of them, kicking them away along with hers.

Then it hit him. What they were doing, or rather about to do, hit him like a freight train, almost as if his brain had suddenly started working again. He was already standing in his previous position, Amelia's legs wrapped securely around his waist, her hands moving up and down his chest. Without his consent, his hands travelled up her back, kneading her skin soothingly and, while his brain was screaming at him to pull away and make the honorable choice to end it, he just couldn't. He couldn't do a single thing when she looked up at him with those huge eyes, pupils dilated making them look so dark, with a loving, comforting smile on her lips.

Owen's hand flew up to her cheek, caressing her cheek as his thumb traced the like of her cheekbone. He looked down at her, losing himself into her eyes and into the feeling of having her wrapped around himself again.

"What?" she breathed after a while, obviously confused by the silence around her, knowing his brain was going a million miles per hour.

Taking a deep breath, Owen's face fell. "Are you… are you sure about this?"

Amelia frowned feeling a little hurt by his words. She was more than sure about this, _this_ was exactly what she wanted – well, it was a start. It was the first step and they always say the first step is always the hardest - and she _really_ couldn't argue with that, she smirked to herself, letting her eyes wander all over Owen.

Her thoughts, however, were interrupted. "We shouldn't be doing this."

His words were final, not a question in any way, but his voice was telling her something else entirely. Maybe he was right, but Amelia had decided to postpone that thought until the morning or, well, never. It still hurt to hear him say it, though, despite how she knew those words meant something else entirely. Maybe he didn't want it as much as she did. Maybe he was just saying it because he felt like he had to, after all they were friends, if that. Friends didn't do this.

Amelia gave him a lopsided smirk, hoping to cover her hesitation and insecurities. "It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

Her legs instinctively tightened around him, pulling him closer, sending a jolt throughout their bodies as they touched. Obviously, they were going to do it. If that had not been clear before, now it was crystal.

Owen's lips found hers once again, arms embracing her completely, squeezing her to him possessively, hanging onto her, letting out the softest moan as her legs wrapped tighter against him and her hand snaked around his back, fingers digging painfully in his skin. All the insecurities and doubt and fear were intensifying the moment in a way that was making Amelia's chest burn. Whenever they had been together, the thought that either one could back out at an moment had maybe made an appearance maybe just the first time he'd brought her to the trailer, but never, ever again. Today, though, was a whole different story.

They were both more attentive and passionate and clingy than ever, which wasn't necessarily bad, in fact, by the sounds coming from either of them, it might have been turning out to be even better than usual. The rest of it, however, was just as they remembered, although the break up, the feelings, the pause, made it feel achingly familiar, lighting up feelings inside them, adding to the mix.

As good as it felt, though, it wasn't perfect. It was far from perfect and not even because their lives outside this trailer were held together with tape and glue, but rather because _inside_ this stupid trailer there was not nearly enough space for their lives, not when there was barely enough space for them. According to Amelia, there wasn't – not when her head was periodically hitting the cabinet above her and she felt like she was slipping from the ten inches of the counter holding her up. Nope, definitely not enough, and this was starting to ruin all the unicorn, magical feelings that had been brewing before.

Desperately trying to get back into the moment, Amelia shut her brain off – or tried to anyway. Owen seemed entirely unaffected, despite his own height causing his hips to rise a couple inches off the edge of the counter making things just… weird. It wasn't bad, not even close, but Amelia was starting to feel the bump on her head had grown and her thighs were starting to burn as she tried to hold herself as not to fall from the freaking counter. Thankfully, Owen was putting more and more force in his movements and, as enjoyable as it was, Amelia knew it was only a matter of time before -

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, wrapping herself around him completely, like a koala on a eucalypt branch. She ignored his hands pushing her a little, trying to ease her grip, holding even tighter with every attempt, ignoring his muffled groans and moans as well.

Owen pulled his head back, in a failing attempt to look at her in the face, but Amelia was wrapped too tightly around him, so he resorted to burying his head in her neck, massaging her head calmly with one hand.

"What… 'Melia?" he panted half coherently to her ear, attempting to catch his breath while she rubbed against him, short circuiting his brain with every unintentional swirl of her hips.

Se chuckled against his shoulder, noting the panicky edge to his tone. "Nothing much." She pulled back, index finger lightly drawing a line down his cheek. "I was just about to fall into the sink and I really, really don't want to go to the ER with a fork planted in my butt."

He couldn't keep himself from kissing her the second those words left her mouth. No awkwardness, no hesitation. She was just perfect. After he pulled away he brushed the strands of hair falling on her face behind her ear and just smiled down at her, the both of them entirely free of any urgency. "Hold onto me."

Before she could offer a sarcastic remark, one of his hands was splayed on her back keeping her pressed against him and the other holding her up, protecting her butt from any potentially fatal fork attacks. The second, though, he stood back, Amelia ground against him involuntarily and his mind blanched. With the little remaining function he spun on his heels, letting himself fall back on the short end of the tiny L shaped sofa. In hindsight that was probably the worst idea he'd had that night, because as he fell on the sofa, Amelia fell on top of him eliciting screams from the both of them. His hands had her hips in a bruising grip, preventing her from moving even a millimetre and upset the balance they had found between oversensitive skin and sensory overload. It was good, so good it was bad.

"That was…" Amelia's voice came to his ears, muffled by his shoulder.

Owen nodded against her, chuckling a little, wishing something would turn out okay tonight. "Too much."

Amelia snorted against his skin. "Definitely too much."

Amelia pulled back to look at him. He was smiling gently and she found herself smiling back, feeling complete in that moment. This was turning out to be nothing like the perfect, romantic, passionate, farewell sex she'd imagined when he'd kissed her. This was even better. The intimacy and comfort of all of it, the soft touches, the light kisses and dangerous forks, made it unique and so blissfully imperfect. Which was lucky because, after a delicate kiss to his lips, Amelia straightened her back, trying to balance herself on her legs, currently bent on either side of his as she straddled him, but there wasn't enough space for her to move without falling off. With a grunt she turned back to him, pouting.

Owen couldn't help but let his smile grow bigger and e weaved his fingers into her hair as he stared at her silently.

"Your stupid couch is too small for this." to make her point and to make sure he knew she was growing more and more impatient by the minute, Amelia pushed her hips down on his, letting her chest graze his as a gasp made it past her lips.

It took a second for Owen to react and, before Amelia realized what was happening, she was laying on the other end of the little sofa, Owen hovering above her. This worked. It wasn't too comfy or too spacious, but it was good enough – not that she had time for thought like these. She had somehow managed to push Owen over the limit with her endless teasing, and he was now threading on primal instinct only, which was so, incredibly hot. It didn't take long before Amelia, too, let all the sensations and emotions take over her, letting her mind empty entirely of everything else. She was just holding onto his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin and muscles painfully, legs squeezing his waist, hoping not to fall off the couch.

There was no kissing, no sweet caresses and not languid looks. Muscles were burning from the strain and their lungs ached as they tried to get more air in, their hearts beating wildly and, in a way, this was finally what they wanted. Being together like this. Yet, something had changed. It was not the comfort and the jokes from before, it wasn't laughs and kisses and hugs. The atmosphere change was strange and while neither was losing any thoughts over this, too preoccupied with their overflowing nerve endings, but the air felt different on their skin, it was dense and chilly, and when it was all that was left it settled heavy over them. They were panting, flushed and sweaty skin meshed together as they breathed in the same air, desperately clinging to each other not wanting the moment to end.

Moments end.

It was brutal like that, and that was life and there weren't two people more in touch with life's brutal turns. Owen pulled back, holding himself on his arms, trying not to crush her under his weight and looked at her. Her eyes were still closed and her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him back down gave him a good idea of what was going on. It wasn't like he wanted to pull away. He _had _to. He leaned back down, placing the softest kiss on her forehead, lips lingering a second too long, hoping she would understand what he couldn't say. It felt as if suddenly, all the crap they had been fighting off before was coming back up and it felt suffocating. When he felt a flutter against his cheek he pulled away, finally looking into her blue eyes. Not only she got the message, but she knew exactly what was going on.

Owen sat back, carefully disentangling himself from her legs, rubbing a hand on his face. She stared at him as he moved further and further away from her, he distanced himself and Amelia felt cold all of a sudden. What was worse, was when her eyes wandered to their surroundings – their clothes scattered everywhere, things that had fallen from the counter down on the floor, the sofa positively looked like a battle area and… the damn uniform. It stared back at her once again and Amelia felt her heart thump against her chest as it did. They were even now. Now, it lay crumpled in the far corner, pushed there probably by Owen's feet, unaware and entirely focused elsewhere. It wasn't shiny or pressed or frightening, yet, it still held the same meaning it had before. And it was still haunting.

The moment Owen's eyes followed hers he realized what happened and hastily stood, picking up the uniform gently and placing it back as it was, smoothing out the wrinkles as much as he could, mumbling to himself.

So, not even. The uniform was still in the run and looking pretty good at that. Biting her lower lip Amelia looked at him, sitting up as well, trying to maintain some of her ever dissipating dignity tonight. He just stared at the damn thing, for minutes without glancing at her once, even by mistake.

"I need a shower." She said, voice hoarse and scratchy.

Without moving a single muscle, Owen nodded curtly. "You know where it is."

Amelia stood immediately, walking down the little hall to the bathroom door, hoping against hope her tears wouldn't fall before she was in the shower, the last thing she wanted or needed was for him to see her like this. She was such a mess and he'd done it all on his own. Amelia stepped in the tiny shower letting the scalding water fall on her face, isolating her from everywhere and everyone around. She couldn't hear Owen putting stuff away anymore, tidying up, packing the last few items, she couldn't hear him curse because his perfect uniform wasn't as perfect anymore. It was peaceful there, under the water jet, maybe a little tight and if she dared let her gaze wander she would some times feel the walls closing in on her – the trailer had the smallest shower she'd ever seen. If she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes she could bet anything Owen wouldn't fit in there.

Those thoughts had kept her distracted enough, so that when the first sob hit her, squeezing her chest tight, sucking all the air from her lungs, and her knees buckled, Amelia was not ready, planting her hands on the wall in front of her. Tears fell on her cheeks, big splotchy tears making their way to her shoulders and chest, mingling with the water, carefully hiding any proof that she was feeling so empty inside. As soon as she steadied herself enough, her arms wrapped around her chest, holding herself tight. For a moment there, earlier, she'd felt like all those pieces were finally starting to fall into place, everything felt exactly like it did in her hopes and dreams and fantasies, and now reality had forcefully settled upon them. Owen was leaving for the army, maybe he was coming back, but Amelia had a nagging feeling in her heart and no matter how many times he'd gone and come back, she had a bad feeling about this.

Amelia jumped a couple feet in the tiny space when she felt someone touch her. Owen had come in the shower, just wanting to ask if she was okay as she'd been in there for almost twenty minutes and he hadn't heard a thing. When he'd set foot in the bathroom, though, he'd seen her pale form shake under the cascading water and his body had moved before his brain could come up with anything else. He stepped in silently, not intending to be sneaky, but simply not to spook her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her back into his chest. Despite the bone crushing hug, Amelia's sobs continued to wrack through her and Owen only held on tighter until he felt her shake a little less, only feeling her hiccup against him. He leaned down, his towering height allowing him to nuzzle his nose into her hair, alternating it with soft kisses to her wet hair.

It took a while, but sometime later he felt Amelia lean back against him, her body wasn't shaking anymore and the only noise was a stray sniffle. However, he didn't stop, the brief time he'd spent finishing up his bags earlier only reminded him of how little time they actually had before he had to leave and he was determined to make the most of it. He trailed kisses along her hair, hands massaging her skin, arms never easing their secure and loving hold. Her hands were now gripping his arms painfully and the water was turning lukewarm, Owen knew in a few minutes it would be completely cold, not wanting to ruin the moment he just turned his head pressing his nose into her hair.

It was barely above a whisper, almost lost in the sound of the water around them, but when Owen heard it, his heart skipped a bit. "I wish you weren't leaving."

Owen's chest deflated like a balloon as her words made it to his skin, penetrating inside, causing guilt and dread to spread all over him, feeling his chest warm as he knew why she said those words. With the gentlest tug he turned her in his arms, tightening his arms back as soon as she was in place. Her head was buried into his chest and her arms were wrapped around his waist, but she was unmovable. Nuzzling his nose against her cheek, deciding it was better than all the words and other gestures he could think of, he was finally able to get her to turn slightly towards him and Owen wasted no time capturing her lips back with his. As she moaned into his mouth, he moved one hand to the back of her head, while hers were holding on to his waist firmly. Feeling her hair getting wet, when she had obviously stood long enough trying not to get it wet, he spun them around, taking the chance to bend down to her height twisting slightly to have more access to her. Feeling as if they were slowly slipping back into their never perfected synchronicity, Amelia tilted her head back letting him in.

Owen took a step back, taking her with him, glad the rudimental shower didn't actually have a door, but rather splayed water all over the bathroom. He reached blindly around him, never breaking the kiss, grabbing a fluffy burgundy towel, wrapping it haphazardly around her, not wanting her to be cold in the two more steps they had to go to reach to bed. Feeling a chuckle against him, he walked backwards to the bed, taking her down with him as the backs of his knees hit the edge causing him to fall down on the soft surface. Somehow they crawled, still on top of each other, to the pillows, where Owen turned the on their side.

The kiss was the only constant in the mess their bodies became on the bed. Soon Owen was hovering once again over her, taking advantage from his position to kiss, nibble, touch, and rub everything he had under him, enjoying the way she'd sometimes moan, other gasp or cry or hiss at his ministrations. Amelia, not one to give up control that easily and definitely not one to give up control in bed at all, now that they were in an actual bed and there were no dangers, nothing threatening to puncture her butt or crack her head open, she was not going to let him get away with it. Hooking a leg around his hips, she pushed to roll them over, feeling the fire within her renewed despite her little breakdown in the shower, but Owen already had his mind set and didn't have to put in a great amount of force to stop her. She was strong, even physically, but he had nearly a hundred pounds over her, it wasn't that hard. Instead, sensing her disappointment and impatience he pulled back, holding her eyes in a silent conversation.

They were once again panting, flushed, victims of their racing hearts. Without looking away even for a second his arm slipped under her knee, bringing her leg up causing a gasp to fill the room. Kissing her nose playfully, Owen looked back into her eyes, asking without using his words because he didn't want to see the hurt from before, he wanted to be sure, he wanted _her_ to be sure, but he also didn't want to upset the precarious balance they were in. Wordlessly, Amelia locked lips with him, softly, delicately, pressing down just enough that he would know she was there. As she felt Owen relax against her, she wrapped her other leg around his waist giving him the go ahead.

The bed was so much better than the kitchen counter. This bed had nothing to envy any other bed – her bed in the house was actually amazing, but trust Derek to get something _so_ good for the guest room.

It felt different somehow, as if this was the first time at all, which was ridiculous even considering today. Yet, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling that something _was_ indeed different and she had no idea if it was good or bad. She let her hands travel down Owen's back pressing him into her, urging him to speed up from the soft, lulling, repetitive movement that was setting her insides on fire. Amelia was in no mood for the slow burn to take over, she wanted flames and explosions and not at all what Owen was doing. Ever the stubborn one, though, Owen unlocked his arms from around her to catch her wrists in his hands bringing their hands to rest above their heads, fingers interlacing and holding on to the other. Still not satisfied, Amelia pushed her hips up, just in time to meet his, eliciting a guttural moan from him, as he stopped completely staring down at her with a scolding look on his face.

"Are you done?" he muttered, intent on keeping a harsh tone, but unable to hold the smile back. Amelia smiled back, but shook her head childishly as he bent down rubbing his nose against hers. "Trust me on this?"

She held his gaze, hoping to have the opportunity to say no, to have it her way, but apparently, he was the one calling the shots right now. After a good thirty seconds, she gave in, pecking him on the lips, telling him he'd won this round. She hated that he was right. She hated it with a passion. It wasn't just different, it was earth shattering, volcanos exploding, tsunami waves and disastrous earthquakes all wrapped up in one.

They were laying entirely entangled into each other, heads still swimming in the afterglow, bodies twitching from time to time. One of her hands was hooked under his head, fingers lightly scratching his scalp soothingly, as she held him close with her other one on his back. Instead, Owen had an arm wrapped around her and the other hand tracing swift, regular circles on her back. Amelia realized, maybe this was even better, this was light years and meteorites better than the rest of it. This was it.

Smiling at her drooping eyelids, Owen leaned down, pressing a full, heartfelt kiss on her lips, before running a hand along her face. "It's okay, sleepy head. Just go to sleep." The corners of her lips tugged slightly, but her when her eyes met his there was no humor, no light in them.

Owen pulled her closer, not caring if that was even physically possible, crushing her against him. He knew what was going on in her head, something scarily similar was happening in his and he just didn't have the right answer. "I am not going to leave you. I promise."


	16. Sixteen

**A bit late, but I'd honestly thought it would be MUCH later. I had worked outlines for this chapter and the few before and the few after this, but as usual I decided to disregard my carefully planned story to follow the characters' will - what happened is, this chapter is a bit of a cluster of so many things that just needed to happen and I didn't know where to put them. **

**I've tried to make it a little readable, but personally I think it's def not up to the standards of the latest ones at least and I'm sorry for that, just hang in there, better stuff is _scheduled _to happen.**

**I'm also hoping to keep the next few ones under 6k just because it does take a LOT longer to type out and proof read and yep, just need to control myself a bit more.**

* * *

When Amelia woke up the next morning, she had to blink her eyes a few times to focus on what was around her. She was naked, that much she'd known even before she'd opened her eyes. She was half wrapped in a towel and half tangled in sheets that weren't hers. She wasn't in her room either. It didn't take long, though, before she realized where she really was. The trailer and with that all the memories from the night before came crashing in, hitting her like a ton of bricks. Instinctively, Amelia looked around the bed for Owen, his words echoing loudly in her head _I'm not going to leave you_. Yet, he wasn't in bed.

Feeling panic rise slightly in her chest, Amelia sat up, probably a bit too fast causing her head to spin. The trailer looked… empty. It didn't take a genius to know she was in there alone, it was small enough that any noise could be heard well enough from anywhere inside and there was silence. Inside, at least, because outside there was a raging wind and considering the droplets on the windows it was also raining. Amelia jumped out of bed, stumbling to the front door, opening it to see if Owen was standing right outside. If her mind had been clear enough to stop and think she would have realized there was no reason for him to be hanging out there, but her mind was still living a few hours in the past and there was no way she was left here alone. Not when he'd promised.

As soon as the door swung open, Amelia was almost knocked over by the wind, as were many of the items scattered around until she closed it. A few of the little plants had been knocked over and there were little things literally everywhere and it was just a mess overall. Bending down automatically Amelia started to put things away, straightening enough so that it wouldn't look like a hurricane had come through.

All of a sudden, Amelia felt alone. Completely alone. Owen was gone. He had to be gone, because his stuff was gone, his phone was gone, and he was supposed to be gone. He had said those words and she'd believed him, she'd wanted to believe him and maybe in a few days she'd realize he never meant them and there was nothing she could have done to keep him here and she'd resign to reality and wait for him to be back, however long it would take. Maybe she'd realize all that happened was, she'd come over and they had sex, end of story. No novel worthy love story and no love at all. All the hope that had been floating in the air last night was gone and all Amelia felt right now was that she shouldn't even be there. She should be asleep, enjoying her day off, literally doing nothing at all for a good fifteen hours, yet she was sitting on the floor of the trailer trying to grab all that the wind had scattered around to put back on the table, not really in the mood to put it away where it belonged. Not in the mood to spend more time in the trailer than she had to.

When she saw a wet spot on the little piece of paper she was holding, she realized she was crying. Amelia hadn't noticed, but her breath was coming in short, uneven puffs of her, her eyes swelling by the minute, her nose hitching with a familiar sensation. Amelia stood, dumping all that she'd been able to recover on the table, intent not to cry over a boy. She'd been such a girl last night, breaking down, crying in front of him and it wouldn't happen now, not in the near future. She wouldn't cry.

Wiping her tears, Amelia unwrapped the towel from around her, shivering at the momentary loss of heat. Quickly and entirely uncaring she wasn't wearing a thing she went to pick up her clothes, some of which were victims to the wind she'd let in earlier. As she was almost done, putting on her socks sitting on the little grey sofa, she realized, her shirt was missing. Everything else she'd managed to find, but not her shirt. Amelia stood feeling irritation deep inside her, eyes watering again and frustration just knocking on the door. Taking a deep, long, calming breath Amelia reasoned like she knew she could. It wasn't a big deal that her shirt was missing, she had more than enough back at the house and it wasn't even that great anyway – it was just the one she ended up wearing all the time. If anything it had been washed enough times that color was staring to come off and she'd maybe spotted a couple of rips and holes here and there, that it wasn't that big of a loss anyway.

Her need to process what was going on came at the cost of focusing her energies on the shirt and getting increasingly mad and frustrated when everything else seemed in place but the damn shirt. She put away Owen's cords and kitchenware, she put away his clothes, tossing them in the little chest under the sink, not wanting to hold them longer than she had to. As the trailer looked more and more clean, Amelia felt increasingly defeated at the apparent loss of her shirt.

It was maybe an hour later when she heard a knock on the trailer door.

The second she'd given up on doing anything that required higher functions like thinking, Amelia had laid back in bed, wrapped up in the downy comforter and closed her eyes, letting the searing warmth seep into her skin. Owen was gone and the bed smelled like him – not that she'd ever admit it, but it felt safe and homey to just lay there, even alone.

After a second knock, Meredith walked right in. Her surgery got pushed and Derek was making breakfast for the kids, enjoying his late start to work and noted, Owen's truck was gone. Amelia still wasn't back and after contemplating for a good twenty minutes if she should meddle, Meredith grabbed phone and keys and walked on the other side of the clear. Owen's truck was gone and all the chairs outside had been put away, making it look a little deserted. Maybe Amelia was gone as well, maybe she was wasting her time, yet the trailer didn't look as deserted from a quick peek through one of the windows. It looked clean but messy, stuff piled on the table and the counter, but the sofa was pristine, the throw blanket was even perfectly placed in its usual little corner.

She stepped inside, the fact that the door was unlocked didn't go unnoticed and turning to close it behind her, Meredith found the keys jiggling from the lock inside. Scanning the little space she noticed someone asleep on the bed, someone who was a foot and hundred pounds too small to be Owen, Owen was nowhere to be seen, probably on his way to the airport or on a plane already. Meredith felt a little tug in her chest as she looked at Amelia in the bed. She wasn't sure that she was asleep, but just in case, she decided not to wake her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened last night and she could only imagine how the little Shepherd must be handling it.

Her thoughts were, however, rudely interrupted. There was a note on the table, a piece of paper unceremoniously bent in half with an A scribbled on the top. Fully aware it was none of her business Meredith opened it up.

_You're probably mad at me right now and I'm sorry. I wanted to wake you, but I wasn't sure I'd really leave if I did. You'll probably be even angrier when you won't find your shirt, you can just grab whatever you want from the closet, I just found it on the floor and… it smelled like you and I couldn't bring myself to put it back down. I left the keys for you in the door, if you want or need a getaway from everyone, feel free to stay here._

_I needed to go and when I'm back we'll make it work. I have left, but I'm not leaving you._

_Love you,_

_O_

The smile on Meredith's face betrayed how corny and disgustingly sweet this was, the old Meredith might have gagged at reading something like this, but she now she was all grown up. Eyeing Amelia on the bed, Meredith realized she was awake, fingers playing with the fabric of what looked like a dark red towel. Trying to ignore how she couldn't understand the presence of a towel in bed, she took a couple of steps leaving the note on the table.

"Amelia?"

She must have been in such deep thought that she hadn't heard Meredith come in at all, nor had she noticed her getting close to the bed, because Amelia jumped to a sitting position, forgetting all about the towel and forgetting she wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Meredith!" she said in what was supposed an accusatory tone, but came out as more of a squeak. "When did you get here?"

Meredith smiled and sat on the end of the bed, the fact that Amelia was completely dressed barring the shirt made her smile stretch even more. They were so cute. In typical Amelia fashion she was sitting there in her bra having a conversation and Meredith found herself questioning if she really was related to Derek, she acted like his twin at times and his exact opposite at others. "I knocked, but nobody answered."

"Oh." Amelia stared at the towel she'd just tossed away and after finding Meredith staring back at it, she grabbed it, tossing in front of the bathroom. "I didn't hear you."

The way Amelia's eyes got glassy and red after she'd tossed the towel away didn't go unnoticed by Meredith, who started to wonder if what happened last night was actually a good thing or would make an even bigger mess of everything.

"Everything okay?" asked Meredith gently.

Amelia narrowed her eyes inquisitively and just stared at her for a few seconds too long. "I'm fine."

Meredith shook her head and, with a smile, tilted her head to the side. "I'm not judging, I'm here for support."

"I'm fine. I'm great, I'm absolutely fantastic." Amelia snorted pulling the comforter up her chest, suddenly mindful of her state of undress and in need of protection. "I don't need support, I just… I just need a shirt, because mine is missing apparently."

With a small frown Meredith looked at her. The little note she'd read was pretty clear on the whereabouts of her shirt, but Amelia's reaction clearly meant she hadn't read the note at all. "Amelia, Owen left you-"

"Yeah, sometime this morning." Amelia cut her off curtly, evidently not interested in what she was trying to say, not interested in Owen overall.

Meredith shook her head. "He left while you were asleep?"

Amelia's careful mask slipped for just a second as she heard those words, but it was enough for Meredith to pick up on it and send an endless string of curses Owen's way, when was he going to learn? Amelia's eyes looked glassier and her lower lip trembled almost unperceptively, her whole body twitching from the effort of keeping herself from falling apart. Considering the little Meredith knew Owen personally, she couldn't understand why he would do this – she'd known the Owen that dated and married and divorced Cristina, but he was never really Owen, just Cristina's perception of him. It was quite obvious Owen was as scared and spooked by feelings and commitment just as Amelia seemed to be, but she'd wished he would, for once, man up and be the grown up between the two, like Amelia had been the night before when she'd gone to see him.

If Owen had grown a pair and confronted Amelia, now Meredith wouldn't have to put together the pieces he'd left behind. Whatever happened last night had put a serious dent in their similarly fragile conviction that they were done, that they were fine being apart, not at all harbouring feelings for the other. Yet, Owen was gone and Amelia was right there. She could only imagine what it would feel like if she were in Amelia's shoes.

Reaching across the bed, she grabbed one of Amelia's hands. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't need you to be sorry for him." Amelia mumbled, voice hoarse and halting, giving enough away that Meredith knew just what had to be going on inside her.

Meredith bit her lip, shaking her head. "He should have told you he was going from the beginning and he didn't, but he should have at list said goodbye this morning."

Amelia nodded, eyebrows nearly touching her hairline, eyes fixed on her lap. "He should have."

"Yeah. But Amelia, Owen-"

"Owen can go screw himself for all I care, quite literally." Amelia stared up at Meredith. The hard look on her face and curt, controlled voice made a stark contrast to the barely hanging on Amelia of a few minutes prior. "He doesn't get to do this. I'm done."

She stood before Meredith could say another word, going for the door. "Wait! Amelia, there's a note-" but Amelia wasn't listening, she was putting her shoes on, ready for the short walk to the house and the privacy of her room, not caring one bit that she would just walk out in her bra.

Meredith grabbed the first thing she got her hands on from Owen's open closet and handed it to her. "At least put this on, catching a cold will only make it worse."

Amelia eyed the sweatshirt distastefully, wrinkling her nose at Meredith, whose patience always wore thinner than usual at her childish antics. She didn't want the sweatshirt because it was Owen's and she was – rightfully – mad at him right now. Shaking the garment in front of her, clearly not budging, Amelia eventually grabbed it and slipped the oversized sweatshirt over her head, discovering it was his Harvard sweatshirt and relaxing a little as the worn fleece made contact with her skin. It could pass as hers – or that was what she thought because there was no way anyone looking at her would think so, not when it was obviously several sizes too big.

Turning around for a second, Meredith grabbed Owen's little note, knowing this might be a good moment to give it to Amelia. She wasn't any less angry than her topless self, but she'd seen a softness cross her eyes as the sweatshirt molded to her body that had been missing before. However, Meredith was too late. That window was gone. Also, Amelia was gone.

Carefully grabbing the keys and locking up the trailer, Meredith headed out, seeing Amelia's form halfway to the house already. She sighed and made her way to the house as well, holding the two sets of keys, phone and Owen's note in her hands, wishing this mess would solve itself already but feeling rather satisfied at the most recent turn of events. She'd never ask for the details, but she was more than sure Amelia and Owen had reunited last night and – if Owen's words were any indication – finally come clean about their feelings. Now Owen was gone and Amelia was hurting, while she wouldn't allow herself to.

Walking into the house Meredith caught a glimpse of Derek shaking his head at her, nodding in the direction of Amelia's room. She stopped sighing, shrugging her shoulders at him, as if to tell him she had no answers to his questions and it wasn't the time to sit and have a discussion about how messed up Owen and Amelia were - not that Amelia would ever allow her to say it, there was no Owen and Amelia. There was Owen and there was Amelia, she was way too hurt right now to be thinking like that. Yet, Meredith knocked softly on her door, opening without waiting for an answer. She walked up to Amelia's form laying in bed, fully aware she was wide awake and probably would be for the rest of the day, no matter how much she'd love to sleep it off, and sat on the edge, shaking her shoulder lightly.

"Amelia." Without moving she mumbled something Meredith couldn't make out and nuzzled her face further into her pillow. "Owen wrote you a note, it was on the table, do you want to read it?"

Amelia swallowed audibly and bit her lip thoughtfully, it was obviously something she hadn't expected, not after she'd turned the trailer upside down earlier looking for her still missing shirt. "Just leave it. I'll read it later."

Meredith did as she instructed, but the feeling that Amelia would just throw it away or stash it in a drawer and forget about it nagged at her. Now, she wished she could just keep it and give it to her tomorrow or the next day or maybe even next week, or whenever she was half sure Amelia would at least read it. It was definitely going to be an interesting few weeks.

She wasn't wrong.

Overall, things had gone back to normal, the relative kind of normal they had been living before. Amelia had thrown herself into work, taking most of Derek's night shifts, something she was glad for – having her husband home for dinner, to tuck the kids into bed would never be something she'd complain about. But Amelia was clearly not okay and Meredith had no idea what she could do to make it better for her, _if _there was anything that could be done at all, barring bringing Owen back and handing him a pair of bigger balls. All the while Derek would insistently ask about what happened the morning she went to get Amelia at the trailer and, though he might already know, Meredith had refrained from telling him Owen had slept with Amelia only to leave her as she was still asleep in his bed. In order to make things better Owen needed to come back in one piece and _stay_ in one piece.

At this rate, though, Meredith might hurt him herself. In three weeks he'd managed to call a few times, no more than once or maybe twice a week, from Iraq, and he'd talked to Callie, to Richard, to Derek and once to Jackson – April had gone with him and couldn't get her phone to work so she'd borrowed Owen's. The first few times she'd seen Amelia wait around as she saw someone talk to him, subtly hanging there hoping he'd ask to talk to her, but nothing. As time passed it was harder to ignore the disappointment flash briefly across her face, it was subtle and Amelia did an incredible job at covering it up, but Meredith noticed it anyway every single time. It started maybe a week ago, when Amelia would realize someone was on the phone with him, she'd make herself scarce, literally disappear. Meredith had read those words, a barely legible scribble left as he was probably one foot out the door already, but they felt sincere nonetheless, so it was hard to believe Owen wouldn't want to talk to her. In fact, she knew for a fact Owen had taken to asking about her and getting very few, quick answers didn't seem to satisfy him, but he'd never press for more. On the other hand, Amelia had brushed off everyone butting in, suggesting if she talked to him maybe she'd be a little less miserable, which she'd never ever admit she was. Meredith had confronted her about it, telling her quite plainly that if she wanted to talk to him she should just call and be done with it, if he was being an idiot about whatever was between them, didn't mean she should be one as well.

Amelia was too stubborn for that though, so she'd disappear. When she saw Derek pick up his phone, it was a supply closet, the nearest one in sight – she just walked in and closed the door behind her, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves once she was alone. Though, Amelia wasn't alone. The closet was silent and with the closed door it was dark and silent, so when a noise came from the back Amelia jumped letting out a horror film worthy gasp when she saw a shadow walk over to her.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

As Amelia recognized those eyes, she sighed in relief, one hand still gripping the front of her scrub top, her breath still coming in short, irregular puffs. "You scared the life out of me." His soft gaze matched her own in more ways she'd ever admit and she relaxed as he walked even closer, standing under the light. "I'm sorry, I uh… didn't know you were here, I-I'll just go-"

"No, stay." He shook his head "Stay, it's okay. I don't mind."

Amelia looked at him for a good ten seconds trying to read between the lines. They had never talked apart from maybe the couple times they had worked together and Amelia knew nothing at all about this guy, but now it was different. "You sure? You don't hide in a creepy closet because you're looking for company."

He sighed, suddenly intrigued by his feet, not used to her lack of filter apparently. "Yeah, I'm hiding in here." He breathed, but immediately looked up to Amelia, who was frowning confusedly at him. "But it's fine, you're fine. _You_ can stay."

It was all that much clearer now. "Misery loves company, uh?"

"Something like that." he chuckled, sliding down and sitting on the floor. Amelia was sitting next to him within a few seconds.

There was silence for a little bit, mostly due to the fact that they barely knew each other and also because no one really had the courage to say anything. "I didn't know Kepner was into that kind of thing." Amelia mumbled after some time, unable to stand the silence in the room. "I just mean…"

"No, I know. I didn't think it was her thing either." he shrugged off. "Had no idea she was into it until I was driving her to the airport."

Amelia snorted, she knew that story all too well herself. "Sucks."

Jackson leaned back against the shelves, taking in a deep breath, "Yeah, it sucks."

They just sat like that for a while, it was a little awkward and it was definitely new, but for the first time in weeks, Amelia felt less alone. She had Derek and Meredith, who loved nothing more than to keep her company at all times when they could, to the point where Amelia just hid herself at times, locking herself in her room or playing with Zola's dolls with hours just to get them off her back. Amelia had Richard, who hadn't said a thing, but she knew he knew, she was positive he knew everything because he looked at her from afar, when he thought she was distracted or otherwise occupied, but she felt his eyes on her. Pity looks. That's what she got from Callie and Arizona and occasionally Bailey – now that she thought of it, though, her current supply closet mate was victim of those irritating pity looks on a daily basis as well.

She'd never really noticed before, too concentrated on her own bottled up feelings and backwards situation to realize that somebody else was going through something similar. It wasn't exactly the same and Amelia was definitely glad, because she couldn't understand how a married couple could end up in the same shoes as Owen and her with their on and off, overly screwed up attempt at maybe considering being in a relationship someday. She'd heard it all over the hospital, poor April lost her child and needed a way to cope – poor Amelia had lost her child as well and soldiered on, but not as literally.

Amelia fought with the pain from losing her fiancé and son and struggled with being newly sober at the same time, without the need of running away to the Middle East.

"I'm sorry." She offered softly, causing Jackson to turn curiously with a slight frown. "I'm sorry she left."

He nodded, frown staying put as he tried to work out what Amelia was trying to say. "Thanks."

Amelia was far too experienced in hiding her feelings and putting on a façade to know stubborn Jackson hadn't got the message. "I get why she left, but I don't get why she left you."

He shook his head sadly leaning away defensively. "Our son died. April was… she needs this. To go away, get her mind off things."

Nodding her head Amelia sighed. "I'm just saying, you might need that as well, to - uh, get your mind off things. You look like you need that."

"What do you know about it?" Jackson spat back, anger seeping through the words, not entirely directed at Amelia, just a side effect of those words making their way out of his mouth.

Amelia opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times. She couldn't. Maybe it would help him, maybe it would make it easier for him, but she just couldn't. Amelia knew exactly what that felt like and she had the distinct impression that Jackson reacted to it much like she had, quite the opposite of April. Amelia had shut everyone off, pretending she wasn't dying inside, pretending she was pushing through, strong enough to live on as if he'd never even existed. It was easier maybe, her friends had all been there for her and even whens he hated it, she was glad. From the look of things, Jackson had kept it together for April, keeping it all in, putting a smile on his face and everyone thought he was fine - he didn't have her friends, he didn't have her LA family to catch him when he fall and it wasn't fair. Amelia had maybe spoken to him a few dozen words and yet, just by having a look at him when he wasn't carefully hiding behind his pretty boy mask, she knew he was one of her people. Much like it happened with Owen.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head, rubbing the top with his hand. "Didn't mean to snap at you."

Her arms wrapped around herself of their own accord, squeezing tight. She shook her head, forcing a smile – whenever she rummaged in one of those tightly closed off boxes of her past, she'd feel chills up her spine and her chest tighten and it was nearly impossible to snap back instantly and pretend everything was okay. In the couple minutes it took her to slip back into the present and look at him, something changed. The second she looked into his eyes she knew he knew, because apparently with the membership to the 'people with crappy lives' club came the uncanny ability to recognize your mates.

He tilted his head looking at her, asking without using his words and Amelia gaped at him unable to answer in any way. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"Forget it." Amelia brushed him off quickly, finally feeling like herself again, with at least an ounce of control over her emotions.

Apparently, he knew all too well what was happening with her – Amelia still wasn't sure if it was a good or bad, but for right now she just let herself enjoy the company that for once felt like actually company and not pity or obligation.

"I'm sorry, too." He muttered after a while that they were sitting in complete silence.

With a frown, Amelia turned to him.

Jackson looked away from her, a smile crossing his face, soft and comforting, confusing the hell out of her. "I'm sorry he left you too."

Quick at feigning ignorance Amelia was ready to give an exaggerated speech about how her and Owen were just friends – colleagues, not more, never more, but despite his excessively good looks, Jackson was no dumb blonde. "I drove April to the airport remember? He was there."

"Oh." Amelia sat back, sarcasm fading away fast, replaced by the familiar flutter in her stomach she despised so much.

He smiled knowingly. "He looked like… like you do. It really doesn't take much to put the two together."

Before he could wander any further in a conversation Amelia had no intention to have at all, she sat up straighter, shaking her head. "No, you're wrong we're not-"

"I'm not asking." He said calmly, turning his body to face her. "I'm just saying, I get it."

That was enough. She got it and he got it. Maybe she needed simple like that right now, when she was spending most nights replaying Owen's words in her head over and over again, wishing she'd get what he was trying to say to her when he'd promised he wasn't going to leave. Amelia had spent every single night – or morning – before falling asleep contemplating the multiple meaning those words had until she came up empty. Most days she'd feel stupid down to her bones for believing him, for falling for it like the princesses in fairy tales, left waiting for prince charming to come and rescue her. The mere thought made her gag, she needed no prince to rescue her, she could rescue herself just as well, she'd done it enough times already. Other nights, she questioned if her memories of that night weren't just figments of her imagination, if it never really happened at all.

There was no denying what she felt for him, as her anger dampened just a bit, and she was well aware she'd been the one to screw everything up before, so maybe this was his turn, maybe she was just supposed to wait and be patient and adult about this and they'd fix everything up when he'd come back – _if _he came back. Every time she found herself thinking like that a shiver would go down her spine, chilling her entire body, feeling dread spreading all the way through and Amelia felt paralyzed by it.

Pagers went off almost simultaneously, breaking their respective daydreaming. It was back to reality time and as they fleetingly glanced at each other, neither was really ready for it.

"Thank you." He said sheepishly, averting her eyes as he smoothed out his lab coat.

Amelia frowned at him playfully. "For sitting on the dirty floor of a creepy supply closet? You're welcome."

Jackson shook his head, unable to keep a smile from his face, as he bumped her shoulder with his fist. "Do you always do this? Say the first this that comes to your head?"

"Yep." She smiled bashfully. "But thank you for letting me share your depressing dirty floor, it was nice, I guess."

He nodded, grateful for the refreshing change. "Time to go, Shepherd."

Amelia's smile was about to crack her face in two and he didn't know her nearly well enough that it could only mean he'd just fed her childishly sarcastic streak. "Oh, Jackson, we just spent I don't even know how long locked in a supply closet, the least you could do is call me Amelia."

"Shut up! It was… it wasn't-we didn't-"

Relishing in the fact that he was blushing up to the top of his head, Amelia shook her head and bumped him shoulder back, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "Oh, relax, I know that, but what is everyone going to think when we walk out together, uh?"

Once more letting him squirm for a couple seconds, shaking her head at him and his typical male cluelessness, Amelia stood between him and the door. "I leave and then you count to ten and leave."

"Right. Okay, let's do that." He nodded, still shaking slightly, not used to Amelia in the least. As Amelia took a moment to straighten her lab coat and pat her hair to make sure it was still relatively in place, he smiled at their conversation, needing to go over it before realizing she'd been yanking his chain all along after one of the deepest more heartfelt exchanges he'd had in weeks. "We should do this again some time, _Amelia_."

With a lopsided smirk Amelia turned to him, hand already on the door handle. "Oh, Jackie boy, it was good, but not _that _good." with a wink she left a stunned Jackson, who, again, after more than seconds realized she was once again doing her thing and left the little closet, feeling a little lighter.

It was indeed nice, having someone she could hang out with like that, someone who knew exactly what she was going through, someone she could just sit with in silence and feel a little less alone. Amelia was grateful for Meredith and Derek and Richard and even Callie when she sometimes tried to engage her, sharing what Owen told her, yet the more she was surrounded by them, the more she felt alone and empty, as if something was missing – rather, someone. Jackson Avery knew what it meant and never asked, never looked at her with that half sad, half soothing smile like she was a stray puppy in a cage at the shelter, he didn't look at her at all. He was the perfect victim to all her jokes – even though he was slowly learning – and he'd bring her coffee in the morning before she'd drive home after working the night shift _again, _without offering Meredith's scolding glance or Derek's huff.

Derek insisted last night to work his own night shift, extremely appreciative of the month long absence of those from his call schedule, but now growing increasingly concerned for his little sister. He'd known all along it was a way to cope more than anything and he'd let her, Derek knew Amelia all too well and he preferred to have her work herself to exhaustion right in front of him than gone somewhere he couldn't keep an eye on her. He trusted her, he trusted her judgement, but she was still sick and addiction doesn't only mean Amelia's coping mechanism would be to down his wine collection or clear out the hospital pharmacy – he'd never been the best at neuropsych, he'd never even been too interested, but he knew enough. She was stable, non dissociative, entirely in touch with reality and, apparently, only overly stubborn, which he knew couldn't be helped in any way.

He'd tried to get Meredith to talk to him and to talk to Amelia and act as messenger, knowing his sister liked her better than him, but Meredith had refused him every single time, claiming if he wanted to talk to her he should just do that. The few times Owen had called, the conversation had never been long enough or private enough to get in the details and neither had made the effort to actually do get in the details. Very early this morning Owen had called at the hospital – as he was just waking up – looking for Amelia, Callie had mentioned something about Amelia working all nights and so he'd obviously been hoping to catch her, but, alas, the wrong Shepherd was on call tonight. Derek, who was scheduled until after lunch, promised to call as soon as he got home, where Amelia would be until the next morning thanks to Derek arranging to have Nelson covering tomorrow's night and not her. However, as he walked into the house in the early hours of the afternoon he was greeted by something unexpected.

Amelia was fast asleep on the blue couch, curled under a throw blanket. For a moment Derek lost himself at the sight, she looked so peaceful and calm and relaxed and he didn't get to see that Amy much these days. He could bet his monthly pay she was worn out and her sleep cycle was obviously disrupted by her batman regime for the last month, so resisting the urge to wake her and take her to her bed, which wouldn't give her a killer backache when she'd wake, Derek stood there, mesmerized.

"Derek?" came the voice on the other end of the line, disturbed by the halting frequency and extremely bad service and voices muffled all around. "Shepherd, you there?"

As if suddenly remembering Owen was on the line, he focused back to the call. "Yeah, right, uh – Owen she's asleep."

With a frown that Derek could hear over the phone, across the ocean separating them, Owen paused for a second. "What do you mean asleep? Isn't it, like, three pm in Seattle?"

Sighing, not really wanting to give an answer that would upset him, Derek just shrugged. "She's been working a lot, nights especially, guess she's just recuperating."

"Right." Owen nodded unconvinced, wishing like hell –not for the first time in weeks – he could be there. He didn't regret leaving or serving or saving soldiers' lives, but he wanted to be there at the same time. They had no skype, no facetime, no nothing that could offer even a semblance of connection that wasn't a phone call or texts.

Hearing Owen's heaving breath over the phone, Derek felt sorry for him. "Do you want me to wake her?"

Owen hesitated. "No. No, let her rest. I'll talk to her next time."

Both knew next time could easily refer to when he'd set foot back in Washington, but the big brother in Derek was strangely proud of his friend.

* * *

**Don't hate me. **


End file.
